


Relativity Falls - Season One

by artmageddonwrites



Series: Relativity Falls [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Relativity Falls, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Codes & Ciphers, Cussing, F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, M/M, Minor Violence, Not too much but kids swear too, Other tags might be added, Teen Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-04-23 22:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artmageddonwrites/pseuds/artmageddonwrites
Summary: Stanley and Stanford Pines were sent to the sleepy town of Gravity Falls, Oregon to spend a boring summer vacation with their great aunt - or that's what they thought. Gravity Falls has more to offer than it meets the eye, starting with a mysterious book Stanford found in the woods. New adventures await! Their days became everything but boring, for better or worse.Fanfiction written in collab with tumblr user @ memeley! Our take on the Relativity Falls AU, includes canon episodes with changes but original ones as well.





	1. Pro(log) 618

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short introduction first, Tourist Trapped is coming up next!

All he wanted at the moment was some peace and quiet. Maybe even a nap. But he couldn’t brush off the anxiety of being in a different place - even worse, so far from home.

The boy was lost in his nervous thoughts until his plane landed.

The other passengers started moving around, leaving their seats and collecting their hand baggage.

The boy stood up nervously. Avoiding looking at the strangers, he turned to the person beside him - another boy, physically identical to him.

Stanford and Stanley Pines had been on a plane for hours.

Traveling to a different place and being around strangers made Stanford feel uneasy, but other than that, he didn’t mind the flight. His twin, on the other hand, though very charismatic and social, was terrified of heights. The flight had been a nightmare to him.

The trip from Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey, to Oregon wasn't a short one. Just traveling in general could be tiring, but Stan's fear of heights made it more stressful for them both.

Ford had tried to console his brother, but through the whole flight, he felt like people were giving them weird looks. Not only from the fact his twin was freaking out the whole time, but also because they were a couple of 12-year-olds traveling alone.

He called the flight attendants many times. The salted peanuts they had to offer Stan's comfort. He also asked for a bag in case the other had to throw up - in fear and also likely from all the peanuts he was constantly shoveling into his mouth.

“You can open your eyes now, we’re back on land.” Stanford’s tone was slightly mocking, but he still put a friendly hand on his brother's shoulder.

“Finally!” Stanley gasped loudly, throwing his hands up. As they landed, he had been grasping at the edge of his seat, as if the plane still could crash at any moment.

A few people looked over, some frowning, some with reassuring smiles.

Ford felt his face heating up and tightened the grip on the other's shoulder.  "C'mon, let's get outta here."

The twins grabbed their bags and finally left the plane.

Stan and Ford had now arrived at the sleepy town of Gravity Falls.

"Pa didn't really say anything what she looks like, did he?” Stan asked, as they disembarked.  “How are we supposed to find her?"

"Well, he said she would have a sign with our names." Ford adjusted his glasses nervously. "And I was afraid to ask anything else. I don't think he likes her a whole lot. Wonder why he's shoving us at her like this."

They were going to spend their summer vacations with their great-aunt.  That seemed like a decent plan - but having to be on a plane for so many hours, not so much.  And they didn’t know much about the woman. Aside from the fact that her town - Gravity Falls - was small without much to offer. It was probably going to be the most boring of summer vacations.

They looked around as they stepped off the airplane. They worried they wouldn't be able to find their great aunt, since they didn't know what she looked like. All their knew was that her name was Mabel.

To their surprise, they spotted her easily.

Mabel stood out like a sore thumb.  Even in the most crowded airport ever, they couldn’t miss her. She was quite old, probably in her sixties - gray hair and wrinkled features, but the most youthful smile they had ever seen on an old lady.  And she was frantically waving at them. She also held a giant sign with their names written on it with glitter glue that exactly matched the color of her hot-pink pencil skirt.

Stan and Ford exchanged looks. She seemed very… Eccentric.  Nothing at all what they expected from someone related to their dad, who was as tough as a cinderblock.

They walked up to her, trying to not look so tired and, yeah, a bit suspicious.

"Welcome, welcome!" Mabel dropped the sign, opened her arms and trapped them both in a tight hug. "Oh my gosh! I can't believe how much you two have grown!"

Stan wriggled out of the hug, gasping for air.

"Uh..." Ford stepped back, too, hesitating.  He felt like they should say something nice, too. "Thank you for the sweaters?"

Most of their wardrobe consisted of hand-me-downs and other cheap clothes, but despite not having properly met them until today, Mabel always sent them sweaters and other handknitted goodies - those sure had kept them warm. Their dad would deliver the presents, but he never seemed interested in talking about Mabel, and they never worked up the courage to ask.

Mabel beamed at them. "Aw, don’t mention it! But speaking of that..."

They noticed Mabel had a bag thrown over her shoulder, completely stuffed with yarn. She dug around in it and pulled two more sweaters. They were identical, pure white with “I (heart) GF" knitted across the chest.

The twins smiled and tried not to visibly cringe.

Mabel was still talking. “I was gonna say 'glad to finally meet you two', but we actually already have met! I was there when you two were born, did you know that? You two were so little!" Mabel looked up, clasping her hands, eyes sparkling. "Well, now you two can actually talk to me."  She laughed and then crouched down to their eye level, arms crossed as she extended both hands for handshakes. "You probably heard it already, but in any case, let's do it properly this time! My name is Mabel. You can call me your Grauntie Mabel! It's like 'great auntie' but as a single word!"

Stan stepped closer and provided a strong handshake. He tried to appear tough, but when Mabel smiled at him, he couldn't help but crack a smile as well.

Ford, on the other hand, was definitely uncomfortable. He instinctively clenched his hands into fists. Stan took notice.  

Ford was born with a rare birth defect: six fingers in each hand. Despite the fact that the two extra digits worked perfectly, it was the main reason everyone picked on him back home. Ford was always self-conscious about it when meeting new people.

Mabel, however, appeared to have seen it already - and she was still smiling.  "Hey, don't worry,” she said, her hand still extended. “A six-fingered handshake is just a full finger friendlier than normal!"

Ford blinked, then pursed his lips to hide a grin. He reached out and shook her hand as firmly as he could. Mabel smiled hugely.  

“Right,” Stan said. He slung an arm around Ford’s shoulders. “So I’m Stanley, and this is Stanford!  But you can call us Stan and Ford.”

"Noted!" She stood up with a hop and began marching away. "Alright, let's go get your bags before they disappear forever!"

They ran after their grauntie, Stan sprinting like he hadn’t been about to vomit two minutes ago.

"Hey, we can carry our stuff, you know!" He shouted. 

Stan skidded to the baggage carousel, tying the sweater around his waist.

“Ford, c’mon!”

Ford stuffed the sweater in his carry-on and ran after him.

It didn’t take them too long to find their baggage and leave. Ford didn’t like the crowd and instinctively went to hide his hands in the pockets of his jacket - and remembered Mabel’s remark.

A full finger friendlier than nnormal, he repeated to himself, and kept his hands out.

Despite Stan's protests, Mabel left the airport carrying most of their luggage. She was definitely fit for an old woman.

Ford's pride wasn't hurt as much as his brother's. As their headed out of the airport, he pulled out the new sweater to get a better look at it.

Stan, walking next to him, took one look and winced.  "Ugh. Hey, since we're so big now, maybe we can request some cooler sweaters." He bumped Ford’s shoulder playfully.  

"Stanley!" Ford hissed, elbowing Stan in the ribs. The sweaters were pretty kiddish, but he liked them.  

Mabel apparently overheard. “I’ll consider it, Mr. Cool Guy,” she called back. “Actually, I might have another surprise later! I was knitting while waiting for you two."

Stan groaned.

They finally made it out of the airport and started walking across the parking lot - towards an incredibly pink old-fashioned car.

“Wow!” Stan said.  “That’s a Cadillac DeVille, right?”

Ford half-smiled.  He wasn’t a fan of the color, but that model was his brother’s favorite.  

The car looked like it had seen better days. It was dinged and scratched, but Mabel patted the hood with pride. Stan couldn’t stop gawking at it. This was partly because the interior had bright pink furry seats covered with gaudy stickers.

Stan hopped in and started running his hands over everything - the seats, the armrests, the ceiling.

Ford hopped in, too, while Mabel loaded their bags in the back of the car. He felt a little bad for not helping, but he didn’t want to leave his brother.

Mabel slipped into the driver’s seat and shut the door. “So?” She asked, looking at them in the rear view mirror. “Cool enough for you?”

Stan sat back and crossed his arms. “Eh, it’s okay.”

Ford smirked and Stan elbowed him.

Mabel grinned and dug something out of her purse - a pink fez with a golden shooting star on it. She rammed it onto her head. “Alright, kids,” She said grandly. “And now- TO THE MYSTERY SHACK!”

“To the _what?_ ”

* * *

Mabel drove through the town at speeds that were probably illegal, but the boys took in everything they could. Most of the stores were pretty humble, but they spotted an arcade and a restaurant called Greasy’s shaped like a log. Ford even caught sight of an elegant manor perched on a mountain top.

“What is _that?_ ” Stan asked, pointing, as they whizzed past a bright blue tent with a five-pointed star on top.  

“Better question!” Mabel slewed the car around the corner and the tent zoomed out of sight. “Where can you find the biggest mystery in Gravity Falls? The Mystery Shack!  Mrs. Mystery is my name and mystery is my game! It’s the most famous tourist attraction in Gravity Falls!”

“Not that there’s much competition to begin with.” Ford muttered.  

They turned down a dirt road and pulled to a stop in front of the Shack itself.  

It wasn’t actually a Shack. It was a wooden cabin - a pretty big one - which, by itself, Ford actually liked. But it was covered in wooden signs announcing the location of a gift shop and museum, with other eloquent advertisements such as “WHAT’S THIS?!” and “BUY HERE!”. There were even giant red letters reading “Mystery Shack” positioned on the roof. Ford doubted there was anything more mysterious in there than a bobblehead.

Stan, however, instantly liked it. There was a colorful string of pennants around the border of the lawn, plus a huge totem pole ripe for climbing. He practically threw himself out of the car, eager to try it.  

But Mabel was already unloading their luggage and carrying it to the door marked “Museum”. Ford hurried after her, and Stan followed his brother, casting a longing glance at the totem pole over his shoulder.

“It’s past opening time,” Mabel was saying, “but for you two, I made an exception. Feast your eyes!”  

Ford grimaced. “I see mockeries of science everywhere I look.”

“Thank you, I made ‘em myself!”

The museum was stuffed with Frankenstein monstrosities - rabbit heads sewn onto raccoon bodies, fish carcasses sewn onto monkey torsos, and a really weird looking double-horse thing with two bodies and no head. Not to mention jars of pickled eyes and photographs that definitely looked photoshopped.

Stan grinned. His brother was the biggest paranormal geek this side of the milky way, and he knew Ford was internally cringing at the fakery of it all. “Wow, Ford! I can actually see the life drain from your eyes!”

Ford groaned and elbowed him.  Stan laughed.

Mabel, still carrying their suitcases, gave them a walking tour.

Stan’s personal favorites were the Sascrotch (a Sasquatch in Tighty Whities) and a series of creatures with horns attached to their heads - the Beavercorn, Roostdeer.  And of course the snickerdodo, a dodo made out of semi-edible snickerdoodles. Stan ate one. Definitely _semi_ -edible.

"Behold, the antelabbit!" Mabel stopped in front of a taxidermied rabbit with antlers glued to its head.  The glue was clearly of the glitter variety.

Ford raised a hand. "Don't you mean jackalope?"

"Antelabbit!" She whispered spookily, wiggling her fingers. One of the antlers of the antelabbit started tilting, probably from the glue giving up. "Whoops! And over there is the amazing poultry-geist!"

Mabel gesticulated towards something truly terrifying. The poultry-geist was a distressed looking goose poised to take flight, with a large sheet hung over its wings to resemble a ghost.  

Stan stared at it. “Since when do those things have _teeth?_ ”

Ford nodded solemnly. “Geese are truly terrifying.”  

"And that's all for today!" Mabel announced, completing the tour.  “TO THE GIFT SHOP!” She turned and led them from the room.

They trailed after her.  

"Jackalope." Ford muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Stan held back laughter. “Hang in there, buddy.” He said, patting Ford’s shoulder.

Stan, personally, _loved_ the museum. Their dad ran a pawn shop back home, and sometimes a stuffed penguin or two would turn up in their inventory, but this was way more interesting. She used glitter glue! And apparently people were buying it, hook line and sinker! He had to figure out how she was making money outta this!

They’d stepped outside and headed around the building towards the gift shop, when something large and pink caught Stan’s eye. For a second he thought it was another car, but then the pink thing rolled to its feet and oinked. A pig.  

It trotted towards Mabel, chuffing and grunting. 

"Heeey, there's my cute little guy!" Mabel dropped the luggage and greeted the pig with open arms, hugging it tightly. The pig oinked happily.  

"Um, _little_?!" Stan said.

Ford stepped back.  "There's nothing little about that guy! You could ride that into battle!"

"That's how big pigs get." Mabel laughed, scratching the animals head. "And get used to him! He's mine. His name is Waddles. I call him that because he waaadles!" Mabel grabs the pig and made him wobble in place, shaking all its fat.

Stan put up his hands.  “Yes, waddling. Very waddle, much fat, we get it.”

Mabel laughed again and scooped up the luggage, continuing her path to the Gift Shop.

Stan and Ford attempted to edge around the pink.  

Waddles sniffles the air, walking towards Stan.

Stan realized he’d saved some airplane peanuts in a pocket and the pig was trying to sniff them out. He put a hand over his pocket and glared at Waddles.

"Don't even think it, pal."

The Gift Shop had all the knick-knacks a tourist could ever want: keychains, bumper stickers, t-shirts, snowglobes, and bobbleheads that looked Mabel in her Mrs. Mystery getup. There were also shelves of glitter jars, sock puppets and "cat-icatures". A lot of them.

As they stepped through the Gift Shop door, Mabel whipped out a sketchbook from under the register and scribbled furiously.  

“Tada!” she said, passing them the paper with a flourish. “It’s on the house!”

They looked. It was a drawing of two kittens, one with spots on its cheeks and the other with circular markings around the eyes.  

“Is this… Us?” Ford asked.

“At least she got your good side,” Stan said, and Ford whapped him with the paper.

Mabel grinned. “You’re welcome!  Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the house!” She grabbed their luggage from the floor and fairly skipped towards a door marked “Employees Only”.

The twins went after her, Ford stuffing the caticature in his jacket.

The door led to a living room. The left side had a small table with a couple of chairs, there was an aquarium against the far wall, and the right side had an old armchair and an even older television.  It would’ve been a pretty common room, right down to the old-lady smell, except for-

“Is that a _dinosaur skull?!_ ” Ford asked, hurrying forward eagerly.  The skull was next to the armchair and had a pink doily draped over it, like a coffee table. 

Mabel shrugged.  “Who knows? Yet another mystery in the Mystery Shack!”

“Um, Mabel?” Stan asked. “You know you have a pink noodle in your aquarium, right?”

The tank held something that looked vaguely like a salamander, fleshy, pink, with frilly gills around its face. Stan tapped the glass.  

Ford looked up. “Don’t do that, they don’t like it,” he said, pushing Stan’s hand away. “And it’s not a noodle, it’s an axolotl.”

“Same difference.”  

The axolotl waved its gills at them.  

“That’s Nana! Adorable, isn’t she?”  Mabel blew kisses at it. “You guys can talk to her later, though, I want to get rid of these bags.”

“The ones you’re carrying or the ones under your eyes?” Stan asked innocently.

Mabel stuck her tongue out at him.  “Be nice or I’ll make you carry these monsters. Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping and then we can make some dinner!  Airplane food ain’t gonna sustain no one.”

She led them out of the living room to a small parlor in front of the Shack’s front door. There was a staircase to the left, but it was too narrow for Mabel to keep holding the bags at her sides.  She tried to heft one of them over her head.

_Crick._

“Ow!”

Stan and Ford rushed forward and caught her before she fell. Stan’s suitcase slipped out of her grip and hit him on the head.

“Double ow! Sorry.” Mabel groaned. “I think my back’s done carrying luggage for the day.”

They grabbed their bags and the three of them went up the stairs - Stan and Ford grunting with the weight, Mabel groaning and holding her lower back.

The attic was divided into two main rooms: a storage room and a bedroom. The bedroom had two rather dusty beds on the left and right walls, one with an old wooden frame, the other just two mattresses stacked together.  There was a large triangular window set against the far wall, with a dresser and an old oil lamp underneath.

"This is the only free room I have in the house," Mabel said, slightly apologetic. "but I tried to make it nice."

Stan let out a whistle. “It’s  _huge_. And I’m gonna have my own bed!”

“We have a bunk bed back home.” Ford explained. “Also, I call dibs!" Ford ran up to the bed on the right, throwing one of his bags on top of it. The bed frame gave a screech.

“Suit yourself,” Stan said smugly, dropping his bags on the other bed.  A big cloud of dust flew up and he started coughing. Ford smirked.

"C'mon you guys, I'm hungry too!" Mabel motioned them out of the room. “You can unpack later, let's not starve to death."

The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was… Well, about as old as Mabel.  The appliances looked like they predated the 70s, and there was even a wood-burning stove.  By contrast, Mabel had apparently made the tablecloth, curtains, and dishrags herself - the bright pink was pretty much a dead giveaway. It was an eclectic combination of old, even older, and eccentric, but somehow it still had a homey feel to it.  

"You two sit tight." Mabel nodded at the table, tying an apron over her suit. The apron read "Mrs. Good Looking is Cooking". “I’ll have dinner ready in two oinks of a Waddles.”

“Can I please have some water?” Ford asked, sitting down.

“Oooh, hang on, I have something even better! BEHOLD!” She reached into the fridge and whipped out a large pitcher labeled “Mabel Juice.” “It’s my own creation!  

“Are those… Plastic dinosaurs?”

“And UFOs?” Stan added, squinting.

Mabel nodded cheerfully. “And glitter!”

She poured two glasses, left the pitcher on the table and then bustled off to cook.

Ford eyed his glass dubiously.  He didn’t want to be rude, but he also didn’t want to die this early in the summer.

“Bottoms up!” Stan said, and took a huge gulp.

“Ack! Stan! Are you okay?!”

Stan smacked his lips thoughtfully.  “Hmm… Sugary, caffeinated, nauseating. Also, HIYA!” He flicked a plastic dinosaur at Ford’s face and it bounced off his glasses.  

“Hey!”

Stan laughed.  “Go on, Sixer, they won’t bite!”

Ford tried it. His eyes grew huge.  

"So, how is it?" Mabel peeked over her shoulder. "I put extra glitter today just for you two! And it's edible glitter, I promise."

Ford spat out a dice and rolled a three. "It's- It’s- It’s AMAZING! It’s like super-creamed coffee mixed with Sugar-Flavored Soda! I wish I had this last year when I was doing that project on black hole uncertainties and needed to stay awake for a week straight. This thing could keep you up night and day!"

“Plus,” Stan said. “ _dinosaurs._ ”

Mabel laughed and finished cooking as the two of them polished off the Mabel Juice. Well, mostly Ford polished it off. Stan was more interested in fishing out the dinosaurs and having them wage war against the UFOs using die for ammo.

The dinner was stuffed meatloaf, which normally Ford hated, but something she did made even the vegetables taste amazing.

Ford finished his sixth glass of Mabel Juice and was about to ask for more, when Stan immediately handed over his own glass, which he still hadn’t finished.

But Mabel took the glass away.  “Hang on, kids, maybe you should get to bed. After drinking _that_ much juice, Ford, you’re gonna have a sugar crash in about 61 minutes and 8 seconds, and I don’t want to drag your limp noodle arms up to bed. So get ready for sleepy time, alright?” 

“Okay.”

The two of them cleared their plates and then headed back up the stairs. Stan lagged slightly behind, one hand over his stomach.

“Meatloaf didn’t agree with you?” Ford asked.

“No, no, the meat was fine. It-”  Stan gave a small burp. “Ugh, Mabel Juice.”  

“You didn’t like it, did you?”

“It tastes like coffee and nightmares had a baby.” Stan said. “I only tried it ‘cuz I knew you wouldn’t if I didn’t even though it looked like radioactive Pepto Bismol,” He belched again. “which I could really use right now.”  

They didn’t bother unpacking all the way, just dug out their pajamas and crawled into bed.

They’d been hoping to get away with just that, but Mabel checked on them and insisted they brush their teeth. Rinsing his mouth out did seem to make Stan feel better.  Then she sent them back to bed and the two of them tucked themselves in.

Ford still wasn’t tired, so he figured out how to light the oil lamp, pulled a physics textbook out of his suitcase and started reading.  

After a while, Stan flopped over sleepily to face his brother.

"Hey."

Ford looked up.  “Hey. It’s weird being in separate beds, huh?”

“And not having you hang your stinky toes in my face?”

The two of them snorted, grinning.  

"So… What do you think of her?" Stan asked.

“Grauntie Mabel?” Ford paused.  “She’s weird. I like her.”

"Yeah, she's cool, I guess. Too bad, though.”

“What?”

“Um, hello?” A sly smile crept over his face. “One word, my nerd: _Antelabbit_.”

Ford groaned. “Honestly, what I wouldn’t give for there to be an actual, bonafide mys- What was that?” Ford enhanced his senses as he heard noises outside. “Did you hear anything?”

Stan jumped.  “Wait, what?”

Ford grabbed binoculars from his bag and scrambled to the window.  “I think there’s something in the forest!”

Stan sighed. “Poindexter, seriously.  It’s a forest. Probably just a deer.”

“No wait, look, it’s right there!” He spun around - the bed creaked horribly - and grabbed a flashlight.  “YES! A silhouette! It’s- Oh, no, it went behind a bush!”

Ford tried to jump out of bed and got his foot tangled in the sheets. He hit the floor face-first.  

“That looked painful.” Stan observed.

Mabel’s voice came from downstairs. “Hey, some people are trying to sleep!"

They jumped.  

“Sorry!” Stan called.  

“Sorry...” Ford added in a mutter, pulling his foot free from the sheets.

Stan sat partway up on his elbows. “Look, dude, the Mabel Juice is getting to you. Just go to sleep, okay?” 

Ford sighed. “Alright, alright.  There really was something there, though.”

“Sure, sure.  We can check it out tomorrow or something, but I don’t think we’re gonna see much out here.  Let’s go to sleep.” He lay down and rolled over. “Goodnight, Poindexter.”

Ford settled back into bed with a sigh. “Goodnight, Stan.”

 

**BRX'OO VHH ORWV RI WKLQJV DURXQG KHUH. ORWV RI WKLQJV.**


	2. Tourist Trapped Pt.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tourist trapped is here!

Their real first day was kinda slow, but by the morning they already had the chance to check out Greasy’s Diner. It was a pretty popular restaurant, an old train car now in the shape of a redwood log.

A bored, surly woman about Mabel’s age slapped some menus on the table.  “Welcome to Greasy’s, what can I get you today?”

Mabel smiled. “Hey, Tambry! Looking good, girl!”

Stan and Ford didn’t think she looked anything but bored and uninterested.  Yet even as they watched, the woman cracked a (very) small smile.

Tambry took out a notepad and pointed to the twins with her pencil.  “So, are these yours?”

“Yes! Well, more or less. They’re my grandnephews, Stanley and Stanford!”  She gesticulated as she spoke. “They’re here with me for the summer!”

Ford nodded politely.  Stan, busy playing with straws, let out a distracted “hey”.

“Adorable.” Tambry said flatly.  “Hope you two enjoy the whole lot of nothing this town has to offer.”

“Aw, Tambry, come on. Bring us those famous Greasy’s pancakes!  No, wait- THREE stacks of pancakes!”

Stan cheered.

Tambry took her time bringing them the order - they could see her texting on her phone through the window overlooking the kitchen. But eventually, she came back with their order: three plates of limp, soggy, and definitely greasy pancakes.

But pancakes were pancakes, so Ford and Stan drowned their plates in syrup and dug in. Ford was pretty sure he saw an actual raccoon run past while they were eating.

It made for a very interesting breakfast.

* * *

After returning to the Shack, they had to do a couple not-so-fun activities: unpacking their bags and moving around some of the stuff Mabel stored in the attic.

As Stan and Ford worked to push an old Whack-A-Mole against the wall, Mabel came back up the stairs with a few more blankets.

“I’m sorry, munchkins, I know there's still so much dusty old stuff up here.”

“We need more blankets?” Stan asked, eyeing the stack in her arms.  Then he shrugged and took it.

He doubted they’d need it in the heat of summer, but they still liked all the corny stuff she knitted for them.

Stan dropped the pile on top of a box, raising a cloud of dust.  “Ugh. Hey, does any of this stuff still work? That Whack-A-Mole machine looks pretty sweet!”

She shook her head. “No, it doesn’t work. But I’d feel bad for throwing it away.”

“Aw. Still a cool decoration, though. We can keep it there!”

Ford, who had been pushing against the machine the whole time, finally slipped and fell to the floor with a thud. Stan laughed. The game hadn’t budged an inch.  

“There is good,” He agreed, trying to get to his feet with dignity.  “And maybe I could try to fix it. I’m pretty good with technology,” he added smugly.  

“Sure!” Mabel said brightly. “Maybe you can fix the TV in the corner, too!  And feel free to poke around- I don’t think there's anything dangerous up here.”

The TV’s antenna broke by itself and fell off.

“Can we build a blanket fort?” Stan asked.

“Oh, of course!” Mabel patted the pile of blankets. “That’s why I brought these! Heard you two are pretty crafty boys.”

Back at home, they’d made a fort by hanging a blanket over a rope, forming a small tent they’d dubbed Fort Stan. But that was just with one blanket. With all of those blankets combined…

Stan and Ford looked at each other and grinned. Fort Stan was getting an upgrade!

* * *

 It had been a few days since they arrived in Gravity Falls. The twins still hadn’t gotten used to waking up in that attic, and they took their time getting out of bed. It was summer, after all.

Stan never liked getting up early, especially during vacation. But Mabel’s breakfasts were an extra incentive, and before she’d finished shouting each day’s menu up the stairs, Stan was already halfway out of bed.

Ford always looked like a zombie in the morning no matter what season. Normally a cup of coffee woke him up in half an hour, but Mabel Juice pumped him up in minutes.

One day, after chugging an abnormally large glass of Juice, Ford insisted on finding whatever had disturbed their first night in the attic. When Mabel went off to do her usual Ms. Mystery tours, Ford grabbed Stan and the two of them went exploring for clues outside. It wasn’t long before they found a strand of white fur stuck to one of the trash cans.  

Ford gasped with excitement and pulled out a magnifying glass.  “Cool! I wonder what creature left it here!"

"Maybe an albino raccoon. That's interesting, right?” Stan looked around. “I'm not the expert around here, but do fairies and unicorns like trash?"

“It didn’t stay here, though, remember? It went off into the forest. And maybe it was just curious about humans! Maybe it stayed closeby! Maybe it’s even closer than we imagine!”

Ford stuck the hair in his pocket, which Stan found gross. Then Ford fished a notebook and a bag of jelly beans out of his pocket. Stan grabbed a few beans. They weren’t his favorite, but hey, sugar was sugar!  

“So, what do you reckon, Poindexter?” Stan asked, cheeks stuffed with candy.

Ford finished scribbling something and flipped the notebook closed.  “Well, we’re in Oregon, so maybe it’s a Sasquatch. Or a subspecies of Sasquatch!  But why would it have white fur? The Yeti could be an option, but that doesn’t explain why it would be here at this time of year.” He started towards the forest.  “Let’s keep looking. Hopefully, we find something better than the Sascrotch.”

Stan had to agree, although he still found the taxidermic puns hilarious.

Suddenly Ford tripped over a tree root and landed, hard.

Stan offered him a hand. “You okay there?”

Ford groaned but nodded. “I’m fine- Wait, does that tree look weird to you?”

“How so?”

“Stanley, it looks like a foot.”

“You look like a foot.”

“We look the same.”

“I can pull it off better.” Stan dusted off Ford’s jacket and walked away, laughing - with Ford’s notebook waving in his hand.  

“HEY!” Ford ran after him.  

Ford caught his twin quickly (Stan was laughing too hard to move very fast) and together they proceeded into the forest.  Ford couldn’t help glancing back now and then, though. That tree root was definitely suspicious. It really was shaped like a foot, right down to the toenails!

But besides the strand of white hair, the weirdly shaped tree, and an unfortunate number of bug bites, they didn’t find much else besides dirt. Eventually, they both got hungry and had to turn back.

Ford, however, was undeterred. “I swear there's something hiding in the woods,” he kept muttering as they approached the Gift Shop. “I feel like I'm being watched!"

“Dude,” Stan said. Ford could go on for hours, even days, when he got hooked on a mystery. Stan definitely had to get rid of that blender - no more Mabel Juice for that nerd!

“I’m serious!” Ford insisted, as they entered the Gift Shop. He turned to Mabel, who had just walked up carrying a bunch of signs under one arm. “Mabel, look - my mosquito bites spell ‘Batch out for Will’!” He rolled up his sleeve and brandished the bites.

Mabel chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Never thought I’d say it, but I think you had too much sugar."

Stan laughed and nudged his brother. “Yeah, man, chill out for once! It’s summer! Time for beaches, babes, and… Whoa.”  

Ford looked. There was a girl behind the cash register. She had long curly hair tied up in a ponytail with a flower behind one ear. The Mystery Shack shirt she was wearing confirmed that she worked there.

“Chill out.” Ford echoed, grinning as he nudged Stan back.

Stan pushed him away and rubbed his arm, blushing faintly appearing on his cheeks. _Well, it_ is _summer_ , he thought. _I could go for a summer romance._

Mabel saw where they were looking.  "Oh, right! Boys, this is Carla!" She walked up to the counter, pulling them closer and then squeezing them in a hug that felt more like a headlock.

“Ow!”

"Carla, these are my grandnephews, Stanley and Stanford!"

Ford and Stan squirmed free, Stan’s face redder than a sunburnt tomato.  

Carla giggled. "Nice to finally meet you guys! Mrs. Pines has been talking about you two for days." The girl reached over the counter for a fist bump.

Stan promptly stepped closer and returned the gesture.

Ford hesitated for a moment, but fist-bumped her back, watching for the reaction. Sure enough, he saw her eyes flicker, then widen - but she didn’t say anything, and she didn’t flinch away. They bumped fists.  

"And that is Grenda!” Mabel pointed to a burly woman across the store. “Grenda, over here!"

The two boys looked. The woman had the same shirt as Carla, with maroon hair also tied in a ponytail, covered by a pink cap. Grenda had been refilling shelves with snow globes, and nearly knocked over the whole shelf when she caught sight of the twins.  

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" Grenda sprinted towards them, bumping into several tourists in the process. "It's them it’s them it’s THEM!"

Before they could dive out of the way, Grenda scooped them both up and practically crushed their ribs in a hug. It was like a Mabel Hug times four. Ford was pretty sure he’d pass out at this rate.  

“THEY ARE SO CUTE AND HUGGABLE!” Grenda yelled.  

Mabel smiled and patted her arm.  "Yes. Yes, they are. And as much as I hate to ruin the moment, I need you girls to go back to work, alright? You can gush more about them later.”

Grenda squeezed them one more time and then lumbered back to the snow globes. Carla turned to help a customer with his purchase.  

Mabel nodded. “Perfect.  Now, I need someone to hammer up these signs…” She gestured to the items still under her arm. “If you two kids aren’t doing anything, could any of you go hang up those signs for your old grauntie? Pleeease?"

"Not it!" Stan said quickly.

“Not- Aw, c’mon!” Ford groaned.  

"Thank you!" Mabel said in a sing-song tone. She pressed the signs at him, along with a hammer and a box of nails, and walked away to lead the next tour group.  

Stan hopped onto the counter, laughing, while Ford stomped away.  He wasn’t a huge fan of working. Their dad had both him and Stan do cash register duty at the family pawn shop, a chore he dreaded - but it least it never involved physical labor!

 _Although_ , he mused to himself, _I guess I’ll get another chance to look around the forest._

* * *

Stan remained on the counter, playing around with some bumper stickers, pretending to watch Mabel selling her merch. But he was actually just watching Carla.

Suddenly Carla finished with a customer and leaned so close her hair brushed his shoulder. Instantly his heart pounded in his chest. He knocked over all the bumper stickers and nearly missed what she was whispering. 

"I don't wanna be mean,” She whispered, “but that guy has been just… _Standing_ there. For the past half hour!" Carla nodded discreetly towards the person in question.

Stan glanced over. The guy was a teen in a beat-up black hoodie. Most of his head was covered by the hood and a fringe obscured half of his face. And he was visibly staring at Mabel, following her around the store with his eyes.  Stan frowned.

"He's kinda creeping me out." Carla added quietly, before another client walked up to the counter.

Stan put the stickers back in place.  He couldn’t take his eyes off the weirdo.

Mabel finally noticed him, too.  "Welcome to the Mystery Shack! Shirts are 10% off today!" She walked up to him and then stopped a few feet away, her expression shifting to one of surprise.  "Oh, hi... Hi, Norman."

_Mabel knows this guy?_

Norman reached into the pocket of his hoodie and wordlessly pulled out some flowers.

Mabel hesitated but took the shabby bouquet. "Daisies! Thank you..."  She tried and failed to sound perky. She pinched Norman’s cheek. “And you’re so cuuute!”

Norman grunted. “Uh... Do you wanna... Hang out? Sometime?" His voice was hoarse and gruff.

"That's... Very sweet of you. But-" She gesticulated towards the tourists. "I am a very, very busy woman! So... I can't, I'm sorry."  She turned and grabbed the closest shopper, and no matter how eagerly she pushed her merchandise on him, Stan knew she’d only done it to keep Norman from talking to her.

Norma didn’t take the hint. He followed her around with his dead-fish glare for a little longer before he finally turned around and attempted to walk away. His walk was weird - he swung and dipped like his knees weren’t working, and he smacked his forehead on the doorframe on the way out.  

"Yeesh." Stan shuddered.

Beside him, Carla hummed in agreement.

* * *

Ford had lost too many nails attempting to hang up the signs. At this point, he might not have enough to finish his task.

A while ago, back in New Jersey, he and Stan had found half of the hull of a boat while exploring the beach. They’d been trying to repair it since then, but usually Stan was the one doing most of the physical labor. Ford would rather work on the blueprints. He wasn’t used to nailing and hammering.  

He sighed dropped the signs, picking out another nail to place against the nearest tree. He hit it with the hammer.

_CLANG._

He blinked. Instead of the normal thud, the noise sounded almost...Metallic.  

“What on Earth…?” Confused, Ford tapped the tree with the hammer a couple times. _Clang, clang._ It was definitely not wood.

Putting the hammer away, he trailed the tips of his fingers around the trunk. From the look of it, it was just ordinary bark, but to the touch, it was as cold as metal.  

He noticed a very discreet dent in the tree, forming the shape of a rectangle. Feeling around a little more, he found a gap. He dug in his nails in there and pulled it open like a door.

A rectangular chunk of the tree was hollow and a mechanic device sat inside, with two very tempting switches on top of it.

Ford’s heart beat fast. He glanced over his shoulder, but there was no one around.

He inhaled deeply and reached inside the tree.

Nothing happened when he fiddled with the first switch. But, when he moved the next one, he heard a whirring noise behind him.  

He spun around. Another door had opened, this time in the grass. Ford gasped and walked towards it.

A book. There was an old book in the compartment. Trembling with excitement, Ford picked it up and dusted off the cover.  

Under the thick coat of dust, the book had a leathery blue cover cracked and faded with age.  Tarnished gold metal protected the corners, along with a golden star and the number 3.

He opened the first page.

On the back of the cover, it read ‘This book belongs to…’, but the name of the owner was violently scribbled out. Ford flipped to the next page, then the next, faster and faster. The book was a journal full of entries about monsters, magic, and mysteries!

“Yes!” Ford exclaimed, holding the book tight in his hands, eyes sparkling. This was everything he’d ever wanted to learn about, and it was all right here in Gravity Falls!

“Boo!”

“Gah!”

Stan had jumped out from behind a fallen log and Ford startled badly. Ford almost fell back, pressing the book to his chest and making a not-so-manly noise.  

Stan flipped upside down and grinned at him. “There you are! Finally! Thought you got eaten by a bear. Geez, I bet there’s a lot of people that are going to see those signs all the way over here-” Stan noticed the book. “Hey, whatcha got there?”

“Stanley, I gotta show you this! It’s amazing, it’s-” Ford broke off suddenly, glancing around. Stan raised an eyebrow. “I’ll tell you,” Ford said, lowering his voice to a whisper, “but we should go somewhere more private. Let’s go back to the Shack.”

* * *

 _As soon as I arrived in Gravity Falls, I was surprised by the mysteries this sleepy town was hiding.  I ended up in the middle of a scheme so much greater than I could ever imagine. At first I thought it was everything I’d ever wished for... But it was all a horrible deception._ _Sometimes I feel like I can’t trust anyone. I know I’m being watched._

_I must hide this book before he finds it._

Ford closed the book and took a deep breath. “I knew it! There's more about Gravity Falls than it meets the eye!”

They were back at the attic, inside the new-and-improved Fort Stan. Ford was reading by flashlight while Stan listened.

"And listen, listen-" Ford put the flashlight under his chin, creating spooky shadows on his face. "That was the last entry. After this, the pages just stop! As if the person who was writing this mysteriously disappeared..."

"Are you still high on sugar?" Stan interrupted. "So, you found a smelly book in the woods. You don't know who wrote that! And you don't have any proof anything in there is real."  He crawled out of the tent.

"I can prove it!"  Ford crawled out behind him. He dug around in his pockets and pulled out the lock of white hair from before, now secured with some adhesive tape. "I know I saw something! This could be from a werewolf, or a unicorn, or maybe a fuzzy dragon-”

"Alright Dr. Crackpot," Stan sighed. "you have fun with that.”

“I’m telling you-”

"Yeah, yeah. Look, you keep geeking over that book, but _this_ guy is getting himself some pancakes." He headed out of the attic and down the stairs.

Ford scowled after him, then threw himself down on his bed with a groan. Reaching for his trusty pen, he opened the journal and kept reading.

* * *

Ford lost track of how long he’d been reading the journal. And how many times he read it front to back.

He needed more.

Even tough mythical creatures and some other weird beings were mentioned, the book was more like a diary. He was hoping for more scientific research.

Many pages were unnecessary in his opinion, talking about the weather and such, and one entry mentioning a creature called "hawktopus" - which was probably the most ridiculous creature he ever heard of.

His stomach growled. It was only then that he noticed the fading sunlight. How had it gotten so late so quickly? He stuffed the journal into his jacket for safekeeping and headed downstairs toward the kitchen.  

Stan’s voice called out to him from the living room as he passed.  

“Hey, Sixer!”

Ford poked his head into the room.  Stan had made himself comfortable in the armchair, and a giant plate of pancakes sat on his lap while he watched TV.

Stan grinned at him and waved his fork. “There still a few left, hurry up or I'll eat them all by myself."

"Traitor." Ford huffed and stuck out his tongue out at him.

Stan mimicked the gesture and laughed, returning to whatever he was watching.

The kitchen looked like chaos when Ford walked in. Flour on the counter, eggs on the ceiling, sugar in the sink. Obviously Stan had made the pancakes himself. There were still a few left on a plate on the table, but they looked like they had bits of Stan’s actual hair in them.  

“Not pancakes,” Ford muttered, “ _Stan_ cakes.” Thanks, but no thanks.  

While Ford was trying to figure something else to snack on, the doorbell rang. Ford went to answer it.

A grimy-looking teenager in a dirty hoody stood on the porch. “Ugh,” he grunted. “Is Mabel here?”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Uh… No?”

He heard a clatter behind him and turned to see Stan watching them from the living room doorway. His eyes narrowed at the teen.  

Ford turned back. “Who are you?”

"I'm... Normal... Man!" The teen croaked out. "Uh. I mean... I'm Norman."

Ford squinted suspiciously. The guy had terrible posture, smelled like roadkill, hadn’t blinked once, and…

"Are you bleeding, Norman?"

Norman glanced down his cheek, where there was a splotch of some red fluid.  

"It's jam." He said quickly.

There was an awkward pause.  

“Riiight,” Ford said. “Well, Mabel’s not here, like I said.”  

"Alright, so... I'll be back some other time." Norman wobbled awkwardly, visibly nervous under Ford's suspicious glare.

“Well, that was odd.” Ford closed the door and made sure it was locked.

"I don't like that guy!" Stan growled, coming up next to his brother.  

"Actually, me neither."

"He was at the shack today, he just weirdly stood there for a super long time, and I think he was trying to put the moves on Grauntie Mabel!  He’s a creep!"

"Do you reckon he might be a zombie?"

Stan cut off his ranting to stare at Ford, exasperated. “A zombie?  Really now?? No, I don't think he's a zombie!"

"Stanley, I'm serious! He was bleeding! And did you see how he walks?" Ford pulled out the journal from his jacket and started flipping through the pages.

"You still not over that thing?" Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and then headed back to the living room, mumbling about nerdbots under his breath.

Ford followed him. “This author made serious notes! I’m telling you, he has all the proof on the weirdness of the town - Look!” He stepped in front of Stan and held the book open at a random page.  

Stan looked at the book, then back at Ford. "... Gnomes? Really? Didn't think I could take your man-crush less seriously. I don't need no book to tell me that guy is just a creep."

"Er, gnomes- Uh- That's a double negative, Stanley! And he could be a zombie or a vampire, or- Ew, don't eat that!"

Stan had been about to pick up a pancake he’d dropped to the floor and put it in his mouth. He paused, examined the carpet fuzz on it, and shrugged. "A few more hairs won't hurt anyone."

"Don't blame me when you get sick. And... And... If you won't do something about that guy, then I will!"

"Dude, if he comes back and tries to mess with my grauntie again, he'll be getting a double-date with Lefty and Scratchy." Stan clenched his first around the fork and shoved a piece of pancake in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two will be posted tomorrow, stay tuned!


	3. Tourist Trapped Pt.2

The next morning, Ford was already gone by the time Stan woke up. It wasn’t really that late, Ford was just somehow was able to pull himself out of bed before him.

Stan groaned and sat up.  Last night he’d heard his brother pen-clicking away in the dark, and the sound of pages being flipped at the speed of nerd.  Ford probably hadn’t even slept at all. He’d just gotten caught up with his journal thing and…

Ditched him.  Didn’t even bother to wake Stan up.  

He sighed to himself and headed downstairs.  

Mabel was in the kitchen making hash browns.  

“Morning, family!” she greeted him, lifting her cup of Mabel Juice.

“Morning, family,” he answered, grinning a little.  But then he looked away. “Single family member. Have you seen Ford?”

“Oh, yeah.” Mabel flipped some browns. “He was in a hurry to leave, just had some juice and then he was gone. Which is a shame, I’m very proud of this breakfast!”

She gestured to two plates sitting on the counter.  Each plate was loaded with deliciously crispy hash browns.  She’d even drew a smiley face on them in ketchup.

“Well, I appreciate them.”  Stan grabbed a plate and sat at the table.  

Mabel smiled, grateful. “Well then, let’s dig in!”

They had a pretty messy breakfast, slathering their hash browns with lots of ketchup.  Stan didn’t think he’d ever change his opinion of Mabel Juice, so he just teased Mabel while she drank hers and then they played with the plastic toys from her cup.  He was feeling better already.

He scraped the last of the browns off his plate and stood up. Why couldn’t he just head over to the arcade today? If Ford was going off on his own adventure, so could he!

Stan went back upstairs, loaded quarters into his pockets, and had nearly made it out the back door when he realized Mabel had opened the Shack for business.  Which wasn’t a big deal, except that suddenly he remembered a certain beautiful brunette working the cash register.

Carla.

_Hmmm._  Arcades were for finding digital treasure. Perhaps today’s adventure could include also include a hot babe?

Stan hurried outside, spotted Mabel on the lawn, and followed her into the Gift Shop behind a gaggle of tourists.

“So, Mabel,” Stan started, “what’s Carla like?”

“Oh, she’s super fun!  But she’s not here today, sorry.”

“What?!”

“I have a different person working at the cash register during the weekend,” she explained. “But I bet you gonna like him, too! His name is Daniel, or Dan, for short.”  She pushed open the Gift Shop door.

Dan-who-was-definitely-NOT-Carla was very easy to spot. He didn't seem much older than Carla, but he was built like a brick house, with fiery red hair stuffed under an ushanka hat. His chin and chest were likewise sprouting tufts of manly hair over seriously ripped muscles.

Stan had to admit, the guy looked like a pro-wrestler wrapped in flannel.  

Dan was frowning with boredom, bushy eyebrows knitted together, but as soon as he saw Stan his face instantly lit up.

“Hey there!” he boomed, reaching over and grabbing Stan’s hand.  The guy had a grip strong enough to make his joints pop.

Stan stares at his slightly achy hand, eyes sparkling.  “Wow. Good grip.”

“You must be Stanley! Or Stanford.” Dan scratched his fuzzy chin. “Mrs. Pines been talking about you two for ages! You two are twins, right? Where’s the other one?”

“He ditched me for some nerdy quest or whatever,” Stan said. “It’s Stanley, by the way, and this is your lucky day. You got to meet the cooler twin first!” He grinned and pointed both thumbs at his chest.  

Dan laugh and ruffled Stan’s hair. “Sure thing.”

Stan smiled proudly because it seemed like Dan actually meant it.  

Mabel smiled at them.  “You two be good now, I have some tours to give.” She pulled out an old wooden cane with a miniature disco ball glued to it and walked away, whistling.  

But she’d only taken a few steps when Norman the Creepazoid walked through the door.  Mabel jumped back with a small scream.

“Oh, it’s you!” She tried to laugh it off, adjusting her fez. “Haha, again…”

Stan scowled.  Then he looked over and saw Dan scowling, too.  

_I knew I liked Dan,_ Stan thought.

Norman presented Mabel with a heart-shaped box of sweets.  “Here,” he grunted.

Stan had half a mind to deck the guy, especially since Dan seemed like he’d back Stan up.  But before he could, Mabel ran back to the counter and shoved Stan forward.

“Hey!”

“Stan, this is Norman!” Mabel said loudly. “Have you met my grand nephew, Stanley? I think you two would get along great! He’s almost 13!”

Stan glared daggers at Norman.  A bead of sweat rolled down Norman’s face.  

“Uh,” Norman grunted.

“You little rascals have fun! Without me. Please.” She pushed Stan even closer to Norman, gave them both a pat on the back, and then hurried out of the Gift Shop at twice her usual speed.  

Norman started nervously at Stan, who responded with a snarl.

“... Chocolate?”

“Get lost!” Stan barked, brandishing his fist.  “And don’t bother my Grauntie again!”

Norman fled. The sight of his fearful backside was quite satisfying.  

“Dude,” Dan said.  

Stan turned, slightly embarrassed.

But Dan was grinning.  “That guy gives me the heebie-jeebies, too!”

* * *

Stan really liked Dan, but eventually, Stan said goodbye and went to look for his brother.  he was still kinda angry at Ford for leaving him without a word, but he was also a little worried about him, too.  

Fortunately, he didn’t have to go far - he spotted Ford in a bush outside the Shack.  Ford probably thought he was being all subtle, but anyone could see his binoculars poking through the leaves.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think, you know?”

Ford didn’t so much as jump.  He just brandished the journal and a camera at Stan.  “Then help me out already!”

Stan glanced at the camera.  It was a disposable one their mom had given them - he imagined she was hoping for precious summer of their trip, not one of his brother’s mystery hunts. But she should have seen that coming when leaving Ford in charge of it.

“What are you spying on, anyway?” Stan asked, taking the camera.

Ford pointed.  “That guy. Normal Man.”

“Norman?"

“He’s definitely a zombie!” Ford flipped through the pages of the journal and held up a two-page spread about zombies.  It looked like Ford had started adding his own notes, too. “Did you notice how he never blinks!? I’m telling you! Zombie!”

Stan rolled his eyes.  “Maybe he’s blinking when you’re blinking.”

Ford fumed and retreated back into his bush.  Stan resisted the urge to laugh.

“Fine! I’ll help you.” Stan crouched down and pushed some of the leaves out of the way. "Not because I believe you, but because Norman is a creep. Though I think I did a good job scaring him off already."

"No, I saw him hand that chocolate box to Mabel right after you "scared" him."

"WHAT?!"

"But when he ran out the Gift Shop, his hand fell off! Here, I -" Ford glanced at the camera. "Well, I can't show right now, but we can get the photos developed.  The proof is right there, I’m sure of it!"

* * *

"So, what do you mean ‘his hand fell off’?"

The boys had headed to the town, looking for a place they could get the photographs developed.

"His hand just...fell off!" Ford makes a gesture, pretending to rip off one of his hands. "Then he just picked it up and put it back. He gotta be a zombie!"

Stan wasn't sure if he should be more concerned about Ford, or if he should actually worry that Norman might eat Mabel's brain.

They turned onto Main Street and found a place with an old-timey photo booth in front of it.  Two teenage guys came out of the booth, giggling over a strip of photos in their hands.

"I think these came out great!" one said.

"Edwin." The other put his hand on the first guy's shoulder. "You always look great."

The couple of teens walk away, giggling some more.

Stan and Ford exchange weirded-out looks before entering the store.  It was small and crammed with old-timey camera gear, and there was just one dusty-looking employee lurking in the back.  

The good news was that they were the only customers in the store, so they could get the film developed right away.

The bad news was that all the photos were too blurry to prove a thing.  

"Maybe two cups of Mabel Juice with an empty stomach wasn’t the best idea.” Ford muttered, looking at the shaky pictures.

Stan paused, frowning at one particular picture.  He couldn’t really tell what it was, but it looked like Norman was picking up something off the ground.  Something the color of flesh.

Ford had gone back to the counter.  “Excuse me,” he asked, pointing to a camera behind the cashier.  “How much is that one?”

Stan grabbed his arm.  “What are you doing?? Pa is gonna kill us if we spend his money like that!”

“I know, but it’s for a greater cause!”

“He’s not gonna like that.”

“We still can take lots of family pictures! That will make Ma happy, and…maybe we’ll be off the hook?”

Stan doubted it.  

Ford read his look correctly, but turned back to the counter anyway.  “If something happens, I’ll tell him it was my idea.”

* * *

They ended up buying a new camera. It was small, cheap, and even digital - so they could see their pictures right away.  

Ford couldn't wait to start messing with it, so they sat in front of the store while Ford unboxed it.  The camera came with a wrist strap and a lens that zoomed in and out.

He was both excited by the feeling of opening something new and worried about what their dad was gonna say.

“That’s actually pretty sweet,” Stan commented, checking over the camera.  “Hey, let’s take a picture!” He pulled his brother close and Ford held out his arm.

_Click!_

The picture showed Stan stretching out the corners of his mouth with his fingers, and Ford smiling while giving his twin bunny ears.

“Hey!” Stan laughed, playfully punching his brother on the shoulder.  

Ford laughed as well and got to his feet.  “Alright, let’s roll!” He ran ahead. “Monster hunt! Monster hunt! Monster hunt!”

Stan rolled his eyes, but followed Ford, pumping his fists to the chant.   

They headed down Main Street, and Ford kept an eye out for Norman.  He didn’t see him anywhere, but there had to be a way to find him...

“Let’s ask some locals,” he finally said.  “It’s a small town, someone must have seen him.”  He looked around and spotted a teen holding a pen and a notepad, with a press hat over his sandy hair. Ford went up to him. “Greetings, stranger! I’m Stanford Pines, and, uh-” For a second his confidence wavered, but then he felt Stan come up behind him. “I am a paranormal investigator!”

The teen grinned.  “I’m Toby Determined, from the Gravity Falls Gossiper!” He tapped his hat for emphasis. The hat had a tag that read “hat” instead of “press”.

Stan snickered, and Ford glared at him.  

“Anyway,” Ford continues. “Have you seen anything weird around here lately?”

Toby thinks for a moment. “No, I haven’t.  I mean, besides this growth I have on my stomach!”  He started to lift up his shirt and the twins screamed and quickly turned away.  

“Let’s ask someone else!” Ford said, shielding his eyes.

“Wait!” Toby pleads. “I have some amazing dance moves too!” He kicked his feet and tap-danced. “Hachacha!”

“Get lost, man!” Stan says, and he and Ford hurried away.  

Behind them, Toby sighs sadly.

After that pathetic encounter, the twins didn’t have much luck.  The other people they asked were either creeped out or unhelpful.  

Stan scowled.  “Man, some of these guys are dense as hell! Maybe Norman ate their brains already.”

* * *

Besides their new camera, the twins returned to the Shack empty-handed.

“This was fruitless.” Ford moped, removing the camera’s wrist strap from his arm and tucking it away in his jacket.  They reached the back porch and Ford threw himself face-down on the sofa.

“I’m a terrible paranormal investigator,” he moaned, his voice muffled.

Stan sat down on the couch and gave his brother a pat on the back.  “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault these people are dumb as mud.”

Then Stan noticed Ford was breathing more deeply than normal.

And snoring.  

He grinned to himself, then got up and headed to the back door.  It opened before he reached it and he looked up to see Mabel filling the doorway.  

“Hello!”

Stan jumped back, startled, but she didn’t seem to notice.  

“I have a surprise for you!” she chirped, and held something up.

It was a sweater - sleeveless, sparkly, made out of light orange wool.  It had “I’m Pawsome” knitted on the chest, along with the face of a puppy.

Stan frowns.  “Um, thaaanks…” He took the sweater, tucked it under his arm, and sidled past Mabel into the shack.

Mabel caught sight of Ford snoozing on the couch like a sleepy kitten. She cooed softly, then picked him up and brought him inside.  

Stan watched, still frowning slightly.  Not that getting presents wasn’t nice, but the sweater wasn’t quite his style.

He nodded towards the stairs, and Mabel followed him up to their bedroom.  

“Well, I’m gonna clock out,” Stan said, as she laid his brother on his bed. “We had a lot of fun today.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that!” Mabel says. “I bet you’ll be having lots of fun tomorrow as well!”

“Bet on it.”  He stretched, yawned hugely, and flopped back onto his own bed.  

“Especially because Norman will be coming over to play!”

He fell off the bed.

“Come again?!”

“Norman’s coming back tomorrow! Again! You’ll get to play with him and take him far, far away from the Shack!  Isn’t it great?” Mabel smiled, but it looked a little forced. “You should wear your new sweater, too, you’ll look so handsome.”

Stan gritted his teeth and smiled too. “Sure.”

* * *

 Sometime later, Ford woke up, confused. He remembered being upset about blurry pictures, the near-horror that was Toby’s birthmark, coming back to lay down on the couch...and yet somehow he’d ended up in the attic.  Weird.

"Hey, sleeping beauty.” Stan's voice came from their new-and-improved fort.

Ford sat up slowly, rubbing his head. "What happened? When did we get here?"

"You went out like a candle when we arrived and Grauntie Mabel brought you up here."

Ford’s stomach growled.

"You should grab some food," Stan suggested. "Don't worry about Norman."

“But-”

"Tomorrow I'll make sure to scare him away for good." Stan crawled out of their fort, holding up his new sweater. "Grauntie Mabel wants me to wear this though..."

Ford burst out laughing.  

Stan chucked a pillow at him.  Ford dodged it and ran from the room, still laughing like a maniac.  

"SHUT UP! IT LOOKS FINE!" Stan threw the sweater on his bed and dashed after him. "GET BACK HERE!"

* * *

Mabel said Norman would be coming around the end of the work shift, and Stan was on edge all day.

He wondered if he could sneak away with his boxing gloves.  He had been taking boxing classes for years - those had saved Ford and him from bullies back in New Jersey a few times before.  And he _really_ wanted to give Norman a well-deserved knuckle sandwich.

He was even wearing that bright orange sweater Mabel had made.  Although he blamed that on sleep deprivation, since Ford had kept him up all night messing with the camera.  Of course Stan had woken up and Ford had ditched him - again - but whatever.

Norman showed up in the late afternoon.  

“Hey.” Norman grunted.

Stan grunted back.  

“Mabel said... We’re supposed to... Hang out together,” Norman said. He gave Stan a once-over. "You look... Shiny."

Stan narrowed his eyes. What was that supposed to mean? Was Norman trying to make fun of him?

Before Stan could decide on a knuckle sandwich or a solid left hook, Mabel suddenly popped into the room behind Stan.  He jumped (again).

"You two go have fun now, you scallywags!"  She smiled, pushed Stan out of the door, and closed it behind him.

“Gee, thanks.” Stan said sarcastically.  

"So... D’you wanna go... Throw rocks at the lake?" Norman asked.

“Whatever.” Stan said. Why not? Ford was off doing who knew what and Mabel was using him to play keep-away with Norman. At least _somebody_ wanted to hang out with him today.

Norman turned and Stan followed him into the woods.

* * *

Norman didn’t smell too great, and he had a noticeable limp, but he sure knew his way around the forest really well.  They walked through a pretty clear path, up to a lake not too far away from the shack.

When they reached the water, as awkward as he was, Norman collected a few rocks and sat by the edge of the lake. He patted the grass and Stan sat down next to him.  

"Here," he said, offering Stan a few rocks. "let's play."

For a while, it was just the sound of the waterfall that fed the lake and their rocks bouncing on the water. Stan even managed to make them skip a few times. Norman just looked like he was throwing the rocks like a spring-loaded catapult.

"Hey, uh..." Stan said finally.  He stood up, holding another rock. "You gotta do this with your wrist like _this_." He bent his wrist back and snapped it forward, then did it again, this time letting go of the rock. It skipped twice before sinking into the water with a splash. “See? Like so!”

Norman stood clumsily and copied Stan, flicking the rock with his wrist. Except it was more like a muscle spasm and the rock just sank again.

Stan snickered. “Well, that wasn’t worse,” he said.  He stepped up to Norman and grabbed his arm. “You just need to throw it faster and- Whoa, dude! You got some muscles there!"

Norman just grunted.

After about ten minutes, Norman finally skipped his first rock. Stan actually cheered. Norman just grunted, as usual, but he looked pleased.

_Huh. Maybe Norman’s not so bad._

It was still creepy that he all but stalked Mabel, but maybe he just had a hard time connecting with people.  That could be why liked Mabel in the first place. She was pretty friendly and welcoming. She genuinely cared about people.  

Stan squeezed the hem of his sweater.  

Norman cleared his throat. “Hey, uh... Today was fun,” he started, turning slightly away.  “But there’s... There’s something I should tell you.”

Stan blinked and looked at him suspiciously.  His brother’s zombie theories rushed back into his mind. _Please don't be a zombie, please don't be a zombie_ , he pleaded internally.

Norman turned back towards him, holding the zipper of his hoodie.  "Just... Just don't freak out, okay? Just... Just keep an open mind, be cool!" He unzipped the hoodie and tossed it away, revealing-

Gnomes. Five gnomes stacked on top of each other.

Stan stared.

The gnome standing on top looked down at him. "Is it weird? Is it too weird? Do you need to sit down?"

He just stood there, mouth agape.

"Right, I'll explain." The top gnome brushed at the brown bangs under his conical red hat. "So! We're gnomes! Get that one out of the way. I'm Jeff..." He gestured towards himself and then to the four other gnomes. "... And here we have Carson, Steve, Jason and - I'm sorry, I always forget your name.”

The left leg gnome blinked, wall-eyed. "Shmebulock.”

"Shmebulock! Yes!" Jeff snapped his fingers. "Anyways, long story short, us gnomes have been looking for a new queen! Right, guys?"

The gnomes under him nodded, repeating “Queen!” in creepy high-pitched voice.

Jeff smiled.  "And we thought Mabel would be a great option! So, what do you say? Would you give us your blessing?"

"What?!" Stan finally snapped out of his shock. "NO WAY! She's a woman and, and... You guys are just a bunch of gnomes!"

Jeff looks down sadly. "We thought you might say that."

“Uh, yeah I would!”

"Today has really been nice,” Jeff continued slowly, “but... You're in the way of us getting a new queen. So we’re gonna have to kidnap you.”

"Huh?" 

Before Stan could react, Jeff lunged at him, baring surprisingly piranha-like teeth and screeching.  Stan threw up his hands as all five gnomes attacked.

* * *

 Ford ran back to the Shack as fast as he could. 

He’d come back to it in time to see Norman and Stan head off into the forest.  Still determined to get proof that his Grauntie’s stalker was a zombie, Ford had followed, camera in hand.  After an hour of skipping rocks (or sinking them, in Norman’s case), Ford had nearly given up. Maybe Norman was just different, and Ford was judging a book by its cover.  Norman and Stan even seemed to be getting along.

And then Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes.   _Razor-teethed gnomes_.

Ford had brought along a golf club for protection, just in case, and he’d been just about to leap to his brother’s rescue - when dozens and dozens of gnomes poured out of the nearby bushes! Stan disappeared, kicking, punching, and yelling, under a mountain of red-pointed forest piranhas. Within seconds they’d subdued Stan, tied him, up, and carried him even deeper into the trees.

Ford was going to need a lot more than a golf club to rescue his brother. He’d dropped it and started sprinting back to the Shack as fast as he could.

He remembered the page he’d read about gnomes. The original author had indeed encountered them, but hadn’t found out about their weaknesses. Ford wasn’t sure how to defeat them, either, except maybe get them a lifetime supply of candy and hope for cavities. 

As he reached the shack, he searched around for anything that could assist him.  Mabel was still giving out tours - even if she weren't busy, he didn't think she could provide help.  He ran into the Gift Shop. Disco ball canes? Pitt Cola machine? Leaf blower? Rake?

Then he noticed it through the window: the golf cart!   

Someone was cleaning it off when Ford reached it - a big burly guy Ford realized must be Mabel’s other cashier.  

"Wait, wait, wait!" Ford gasped, running up to him. "You're Daniel! Dan, right? I need-"

"Hey! You must be Stanford!" Dan grinned at him. "I met your brother yesterday. Where have you been? Your, um, grauntie has been telling me a lot about you!" Dran trapped Ford in a very strong handshake.

He saw Dan notice his extra finger and started sweating under his jacket.  But he couldn’t waste time on that now, his brother was in danger!

“Dan, ow, I need to borrow the golf cart so I can save my brother from a... Uh... A zombie!"

Dan stares at him, astonished. Then he let out a nervous laugh. "Alright, you're funny. Nice to meet you, Stanford." Dan hands out the keys. "Here you go. Bring it back though!"

Ford grabbed the keys and hopped in the cart, swiftly starting the engine.

“Hey, wait, my ax is in the back!” Dan yelled suddenly.  He started running after the cart. “Wait you can’t take that into the forest, I’ll get fired! MY AX!”

"If you don’t tell, I won’t either!” Ford called back. “And I’m gonna bring your ax back, I promise!”

He drove back through the trees, following the landmarks he’d spotted along the way.  He strained his ears, listening for the sound of punching or rabid gnomes.

_C’mon, Stan, where’d they take you?_

* * *

"Mabel, will you join us in holy matrignomey?" Jeff was practicing in front of a mirror he’d nailed to a tree. "Matri... Matri-mo-ny! Blah! Can't talk today!"

Meanwhile, the other gnomes tried to keep Stan tied up and quiet.  They were not having much success.

"More like matri-NO-ny!” Stan yelled. “You're never going to marry my grauntie! Now let me go, you son of a-"

Another gnome slapped his hand over Stan’s mouth.  Stan bit down. The gnome yelped and scuttled away.  

"Hey, hey, whoa! The more you struggle, the more awkward this is gonna be for everybody!" Jeff stepped over, taking a small box out of his overalls. He opened it and Stan saw a marriage ring set with a pure white crystal. "Come on, do you think she's gonna like the ring? I picked it out myself!"

A war cry sounded through the forest. Someone jumped from the shadows and drop-kicked Jeff in the knees.

"Let go of my brother!" Ford bellowed.  

“Ford!”

Ford rolled to his feet and ran to the gnomes, ax in hand. They scattered as he swung it at them and Ford cut his brother free.

“Thank you!” Stan said, grinning.  He punched Ford’s shoulder. "Dude, that was awesome!"

"We can talk about it later!" Ford grabbed him and they ran back to where he’d parked the golf cart.

Jeff was already on his feet, shouting for the gnomes to stop them.  One of the gnomes jumped at Ford and bit his hand, forcing him to drop the ax.  Stan punched it off. They were only a few yards from the golf cart.

"You can't do that!” Jeff screamed. “You have no idea what we're capable of.  The gnomes are a powerful race! Do not trifle with the- AAAH!"

The twins dove into the cart and Ford hit the gas, scattering gnomes left and right before zooming away.  

Jeff rubbed his head and snarled. "You've messed with the wrong creatures, boy! Gnomes of the forest: ASSEMBLE!"

Other gnomes poked their heads out of the bushes and tree trunks.  An incredible number of them poured from every nook and cranny, converging on their leader, lifting him higher and higher…

* * *

"Hey, can I drive?" Stan asked, reaching for the steering wheel.

"We're not done yet, they're still after us!"

"I wouldn't worry about it. Have you not seen their little legs? Those suckers are tiny!"

Ford glanced in the rearview mirror.  "Well, don't look back now. They're about to prove you wrong."

A loud stomping noise reached their ears. The twins looked back.

Thousands of gnomes had stacked themselves on top of one another, forming a huge red gnome monster, complete with a pointed hat.

Jeff sat at the very top of the hat, controlling it by twisting other gnomes’ hats like levers.  “Alright, guys! Teamwork, like we practiced!" He cranked a hat-lever.

The gnome threw his fists up in the air and roared, then lunged for the cart.

"FLOOR IT!" Stan yelled.

Ford did, just in time to escape the giant gnome’s attack. The impact scattered the gnomes in the creature’s fist, but they just collected again and the giant stomped after them, catching up way too fast for comfort.  

Ford tried to weave through the trees and lose it, but the monster flung out a hand and half a dozen gnomes went flying from its fingertips.  They landed on the cart and started ripping the canvas roof to shreds with their teeth.

A few of them climbed down and tried to attack them - Stan got rid of three of them with a few well-placed left hook.  Another jumped for Ford, but he caught it and smashed it against the steering wheel.

“Schmebulock.” It groaned, before Ford flung it away.

Another gnome leaped straight for Ford’s face and started clawing. Ford jerked the steering wheel.

"STANLEY, DO SOMETHING!" He screamed.

"I GOT YOU, FORD!" Stan punched the gnome over and over, until it finally loosened its hold on Ford’s cheeks and fell to the side of the road, taking Ford’s glasses with it.

“My glasses!”

“Hang on!” Stan quickly dug around his pockets and pulled a similar pair of glasses, placing them on Ford's face. He noticed a few bruises there as well. Whoops.

Ford gave a choked laugh, pinching his nose to make sure it wasn’t broken.  "Might be the only time I'm glad you don't wear your glasses."

"I told you, I don't need them!”

“Don’t be a knucklehead, of course you d-”

“GNOME!”

The gnome giant had stopped to rip a pine tree right out of the ground. It took aim and threw it like a javelin. They gasped as the tree flew right over their heads and landed on the road ahead of them, almost completely blocking it.

They screamed, Ford turning the wheel as hard as he could.  They barely made it through the gap between the tree and a boulder, but the cart’s momentum spun it wildly until it tipped and overturned, launching the twins from their seats.

Maybe it would have been a good idea to wear seatbelts.

Stan and Ford crawled away, groaning in pain.  At least they’d made it back to the Shack.

They hear the loud stomping noises approach and a giant shadow fell over them.

Ford yelped and scrambled towards the Shack, but the monster cut him off and backed them up against the wall. _No, no! If I don’t do anything, they’ll take Mabel!_  He started to pull the journal from his jacket-

"Alright, alright! You won, Jeff!" Stan raised his hands in defeat. "You can marry Mabel!"

Ford grabbed his shoulder.  "Stan, what are you doing?!"

"Don't worry, I got this.” Stan whispered. “Trust me."

Ford was about to argue, then he noticed Stan had one hand behind his back, fingers crossed.  He hesitated, then stood back, leaving the journal in his jacket.

Stan looked back up at Jeff. "You have our blessings. But I couldn't take a good look at that ring before, and I just wanna check if Mabel would really like it. Can you show me again?"

"Hot dog!" Jeff exclaimed. "Just a minute. Help me down there, Jason. Thanks, Andy! Alright, left foot, there we go. Watch those fingers, Mike."

He made his way down the gnome monster and trotted up to Stan, taking out the little box from before and presenting the wedding ring smugly. Stan leaned down and rubbed his chin, pretending to analyze the ring. Jeff waited in anticipation.

Suddenly Stan reached back, grabbed the leaf blower and flipped the switch, turning it on.  He aimed it right at Jeff.

“Hey, wait a minute! Whoa, whoa, what's going on?"  Jeff tried to scramble away, lost his footing, and grabbed the grass with both hands to keep from getting sucked in. The other gnomes gasped in surprise.

"That's for trying to trick me!" Stan barked.

Stan turned the power higher.  Jeff got sucked into the pipe with a thunk.

"That's for messing with my grauntie!" 

He aimed the blower at the gnome monster. The gnomes tensed.

“And _this_ is for messing with my brother!"

Stan threw the blower’s switch back to blow, blasting Jeff towards into the other gnomes like a missile and destroying their formation. Jeff kept right on going, flying over the treetops in a perfect arc, screaming for revenge.

The gnomes scattered everywhere, groaning and stumbling around aimlessly.

“Uuurgh…”

“Who’s giving orders, I need orders!”

“My arms are tired."

Stan grinned and hefted the blower. “Anybody else want some?” he demanded, aiming the blower. The gnomes quickly scrambled towards the forest, yelping. “YEAH! And don't come back! No one messes with my family!"

Ford smiled and slapped Stan lightly on the shoulder. "Stan, that was amazing!” he said happily, then his smile fell a little. "I guess you were right about ‘Norman’. He wasn’t actually a zombie, even if he was a creep, going after Mabel like that."

Stan shrugged. “It wasn’t a zombie, but it wasn’t a regular guy, either. Never woulda guessed gnomes, though. Maybe next time it will be something cooler, like a vampire!"

Ford chuckled. "Maybe."

Stan held up his hand.  “High six?”

"High six."

They slapped hands.

* * *

Stan and Ford walked into the gift shop to find Mabel counting the money from the cash register. Apparently, she hadn’t heard any of the ruckus outside.

She looked up.  “How was - Oh." She looked them over, noticing them all bruises, dirt, and leaves. "What happened?"

"We don't wanna talk about it." Stan said flatly.

"Well, alright." Mabel still looked worried. She smiled weakly and looked around the Gift Shop. "Hey, why don't you two grab something from the store? It's on the house! Then I'll get you two patched up."

Stan and Ford exchanged looks.

"Come on!" Mabel threw her arms wide. "I know you want something!"

Stan cracked a grin.  They caught each other’s glances, nodded, and began exploring the store.

"Do I want you?" Stan found some magic 8-balls and grabbed one, shaking it while making his question.

_Outlook good_ , it answered.

“Alright, good enough. Welcome aboard, buddy."

"And I will get..." Ford reached into a cardboard box and held up his choice dramatically. "... A crossbow!"

Mabel stared at him for a few seconds. "Well... Okay!"

"What?!" Stan exclaimed.  “I get cheap junk and he gets a crossbow?!”

"Aw, could you say 'no' to that happy face?"

"Yes!"

Ford ignored his brother, dug around in the box until he found a bolt, then loaded and fired the bow.  The bolt flew through the shop, taking off a chunk of a wooden pillar and jamming itself on a wall across the room.

Ford smiled proudly.

Stan whispered to the 8-ball. "Was this a mistake?" He shakes it.

_Ask again later._

Stan glared at it.

* * *

After getting patched up by Mabel, they ate dinner and then got ready to go to bed.  At least, Stan did. Ford set up a target in their bedroom to practice his aim with the crossbow.

Stan curled up in his bed, trying to fall asleep. A bolt zipped through the room, landing with a thunk and joining a handful of other bolts on the wall. He groaned.

"Stanford, please! I wanna sleep!"

"Alright, alright." Ford sighed.

Stan sighed in relief and tried to make himself comfortable.

_CRASH._

He jumped with a yell and turned to find the oil lamp on their nightstand completely smashed to bits.  A bolt was embedded in the wall directly over it. Stan groaned and covered his head with the sheets.

"You're welcome!" Ford chuckled. "Good night!"

Ford hopped on his bed and under the covers as well. He pulls out his flashlight, the journal, and a pen. He’d started another entry about the gnomes, with additional information and illustrations on weaknesses.

He adds a small personal note as well: _The author of this book said sometimes he felt there was no one he could trust, and indeed, Gravity Falls is a strange place. Surprises may come from where you least expect. But when someone saves you from hundreds of gnomes, they're probably someone you can trust._

* * *

Mabel finished cleaning the kitchen and made sure the twins were safe and sound sleeping in their beds.  She cracked her sore back with a tired sigh. Now it was past bedtime for anyone who wished to have a decent sleep schedule. But she had work to do.

She walked down the hallway and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She listened, but both Ford and Stan were snoring away upstairs.  

Mabel crossed the living room and went into the Gift Shop.

The vending machine never worked properly, and sat there half-broken for ages. No one ever thought twice about it.

She typed a quick sequence on the number pad. The machine made a brief whirring noise and swung away from the wall like a door, revealing a passage behind it. Mabel walked inside and glanced around, making sure no one was watching, then shut the door behind her.

The lights went off, and the shack was left in the dark.

 

**ZHOFRPH WR JUDYLWB IDOOV.**

****


	4. The Legend of the Gobblewonker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, don't worry! we haven't forgotten about this fic! sorry about the delay, but there it is! it's kinda short but we're back. hopefully, things will go well for the next chapter.
> 
> thank you to redwoodroots for doing the proofreading for us!!  
>  
> 
> ~~edit: oof sorry, i forgot the cipher at the end~~

Stan and Ford sat at the kitchen table for breakfast.  Mabel had left them some toast and eggs, saying she would join them for real after she had taken care of Waddles and Nana - after Stan’s last attempt to make stancakes, Mabel said they weren’t allowed to cook without supervision anymore.

While Ford sat reading a magazine, Stan decided to make himself a sandwich. Technically, after all, that wasn’t cooking.

Ford looked up to watch his brother try to stack as many fillings as he could between two slices of bread, until it was at least a foot high.

“This is my magnum opium!” Stan announced proudly.

“It’s magnum opus, Stanley.” Ford snickered, taking a bite of his toast. “Opium is a drug.”

“Oh.” Stan picked up his sandwich, trying to keep it from falling apart. “Anyway, here we go!”

He took a huge bite. Most of the fillings spurted out across the table.

“Hey!” Ford hurried to save his magazine. “I didn’t even read this yet!”

Stan gave him a muffled apology, mouth still full of food. Mayo splattered in Ford’s direction.

“Gross.” Ford shook out his magazine and opened it. A colorful ad caught his eye. “Hey, they’re doing the photo contest again! And check it out-”

“Oh, no.” Stan groans, swallowed his last bite without gusto. “Man, we almost died last time we tried to enter. And we didn’t even get anything out of it.”

Ford had to agree on that one.  Out of the 300 monsters he’d researched as living in New Jersey, he and Stan had only ever found the Jersey Devil - but they were unable to get a picture of it.  The monster got away and the magazine’s contest was won by a very fake picture of a UFO.

Stan went back to his sandwich.  The Devil thing had been cool, but it had only made Ford obsessed with the supernatural. Stan was getting a little fed up with it.

“You do your nerd thing, Sixer. I’ma do my sandwich thing.”

“C’mon, Stan! We could absolutely win this time! In Gravity Falls, we get to see more weird things than anyone else!”

“Yu-huh.”  

“And here, feast your eyes on that!”  He turned the magazine so Stan could see.  

Stan leaned in, uninterested - and then he read the ad.  

“A THOUSAND dollars prize?!” He broke off choking and coughing.  

“Yeah! I think they’re finally getting serious about this!” Ford said excitedly.

“Or they’re desperate.”

“Desperate or not, if we join, I’m sure we can win!” Ford rolled up the magazine and raised it like a sword. “...We didn’t get any pictures of those gnomes, did we?”

Stan cringed.

Ford had only taken some pictures of “Norman”, but even those were too blurry to prove anything. And that white strand of hair was just gnome beard.  

“Gnomes aren’t that cool anyway.” Stan grouched.

“Well, it would be easy to get some worthy material around here!  We should go poke around in the woods after breakfast!”

“Well-”

“Good morning, family!” Mabel sang as she entered the kitchen. She danced to the fridge and pulled it open, grabbing some Mabel Juice.  “Guess what day is today!”

The twins glanced at each other.  Had they forgotten something? Did old people still have birthdays?  

“It’s family bonding day, dummies!”

“Ah.” Ford said faintly.

Not that they didn’t know Mabel always had good intentions, but her interests weren’t the same as theirs: she loved knitting, making cat-icatures and other things that involved copious amounts of glitter. And also playing with Waddles, her big old pig, which the twins still found frightening.

Stan stood up quickly.  “Wellgeethatsoundsgreatbutwereallygotta-”

Mabel bopped him on the head with the Mabel Juice. “Today is the first day of the fishing season! You guys like fishing, right?”

“OW! Wait, fishing?” Stan looked up eagerly. “Seriously?”

She grinned. “As serious as Dan’s dream of being a professional logger!”

Stan whooped, snarfed down his sandwich, and he and Ford sprinted for Mabel’s car.

* * *

“You may not believe me,” Mabel started, explaining during the car ride, “but Lake Gravity Falls is very big. It’s big enough to even have his own little island in the middle!”

“You realize you’re talking to guys who live by the beach.” Stan pointed out.  

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Fine! But did you know, speaking of the sea, you could make a trip from here straight to the ocean?”

Their vehicle joined a stream of others on their way to the lake. Apparently fishing season was a big deal, and the lake was a hot summer destination. When they saw it, both twins gasped at the sight.  

The lake was surrounded by tall granite walls and large pine trees, and the water trailed away to form a river that actually led to the ocean, just as Mabel had said. A rickety pier supported a big sign that announced the opening of the fishing season. Even though it was barely 8 in the morning, the water was already sprinkled with boats, from rowboats to a few fancy yachts.

Mabel jumped out of the car.

“Alright!  You guys get supplies - there’s a bait shop right over there.”  She pointed. There was indeed a smallish Bait Shop a few meters down the beach.  “I’m going to get our boat ready! Meet me when you’re done!” She shoved money into their hands and hurried away, a spring in her step.  

The twins promptly ran to the shop.

The building was small but neat, and the inside was even smaller and stuffed with merchandise.  

A man was restocking some products. As Stan and Ford entered the shop, the bell that hung from over the door soared, calling the man’s attention. He nodded at the twins without pausing.

The twins had no trouble finding what they needed. They picked three fishing rods available for renting and a few artificial fishing lures.  

A boy about their age was manning the register.

“Good mornin'!” He said brightly.  He had a thick southern accent and a long nose very much like the other man’s - they were probably father and son. “Can I get ya anythin' else today?”

Stan glanced at the boy’s black and white polka dot shirt. He smirked.  “Dude. Nice clothes.”

“Why, thank ya!” The boy beamed like Stan had paid him a sincere compliment. “Did you find everythin’ ya needed?”

Ford jabbed Stan in the ribs.  “We’re good.” He said firmly.

They paid for their purchases and left.

“Come again soon!” The boy said, waving them off cheerfully.

“Did you see his shirt?” Stan asked Ford, barely holding back a laugh. “It looks like a cow threw up on him!”

Ford rolled his eyes. “C’mon, let’s just go find Mabel.”

They started towards the pier.

There were a lot of people scattered around the beach, taking pictures or playing in the water, and even more boats had moved out onto the lake while they’d been in the store.  

Off to the right, Dan was sitting in a rowboat along with another teen and an older lady, the latter about Mabel’s age. The lady didn’t seem very interested in fishing. She sat with her feet up, reading a magazine.

Dan noticed the twins watching and waved at them, then he plunged his bare hands into the water and came up with a foot-long fish in his fists. He immediately began pummeling it into submission while the other teen cheered on him (“Git ‘im, git ‘im!).

“I don’t think that’s how people fish.” Ford said.

“I think you mean that’s how people _should_ fish!” Stan laughed.

Suddenly someone rushed straight into them, banging Ford’s shoulder and Stan’s head, and barreled right past them into other innocent lake-goers.  

“Hey!” Stan barked.

It was an old woman in tattered clothes with thin, disheveled hair peeking out from under an aviator helmet.

“I SEEN IT!” She bellowed. “I SEEN IT AGAIN!”

“Uh…” Stan said uneasily.

The woman clearly didn’t have all the lights on upstairs.  And, weirdly, people were just walking around her or ignoring her, like they were used to whatever she was doing.  Stan felt equal parts embarrassed and sorry for her.

Stan glanced at Ford and saw the same expression on his brother’s face.

"The monster!" The woman yelled, nervously yanking at her hair.  She ran to the base of the pier a few feet away and started jumping up and down.  “ _The gobblewonker has returned!_ "

Most people just kept walking or shook their heads dismissively.  A few people actually laughed.

The man from the Bait Shop opened the door and glared at them. The little polka dot-inflicted boy peeked out behind him, looking concerned, but the man pushed him back inside.

Before the Bait Shop guy could speak, a loud siren noise blared over the lake. They jumped.  A police boat had come up to the edge of the water, right next to the pier.

One of the policemen stepped forward on the boat, pretending to hold up a microphone.  "Attention all units!" he announced. "We got ourselves a crazy old lady right here!"

This time, everyone laughed.

The woman’s face turned red. She hunched her shoulders and ran as the crowd continued to mock her.  The Bait Shop guy wasn’t laughing, but he didn’t bother to help, either - he just slammed the door shut as the crowd slowly dispersed.  

Both twins were scowling fiercely.

Ford jammed his hands in his pockets and started to run after her, but Stan grabbed his shoulder.  

“Whoa, hey! Where do you think you’re going? I know that wasn’t nice, but what’re you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, but- What about the monster she mentioned?” Ford asked.  “If it's real, we could get a picture, get that prize and make all those people eat their words!"

"And Mabel?"

Ford glanced down the beach and saw Mabel on a small boat moored on the sand. He ran towards her, Stan close behind.  

Mabel saw them coming and stood up in the boat, dumping a sewing kit at her feet. Before they could say a word, she slapped sunscreen on their faces and stuffed cloth bundles in their arms.  Ford looked at his. They were hats, fishing hats with their names stuck on them and covered with sequins.

“How… Sparkly.” He said.

She grinned at him. “Thanks!  Alright, are we ready to set sail?"

A few sequins and some of the fake jewels fell off the hats.

“Yeah, no.” Stan said.

“What’s wrong?  Are the jewels too much?”

"Not that. Well, that too, but-"

Ford slapped a hand over Stan’s mouth to keep him from hurting Mabel’s feelings - and then immediately yanked his hand back.

"EW! Did you just lick my hand?! Gross!" He wiped his palm on Stan’s shirt and pulled the magazine from his jacket.  “Grauntie Mabel, look! There’s a monster in this lake, and if we get a picture of it we could win this contest!”

“There’s a wicked cool prize!” Stan added.  

“Yeah! And also, that old lady…”  He trailed off. “She saw something on the lake and were trying to warn everyone, but they just… Made fun of her!"  The magazine made a crinkly noise and Ford realized he was crushing it in his hands.

"Old lady?" Mabel squinted, then something seemed to click behind her eyes. She shook her head. “Alright, we'll take a raincheck on the fishing. You guys go get your monster. I'll be here."

She sat back down and picked up the sewing kit. It looked like she’d been starting on a matching hat for herself.  

“Um, that’s it?” Stan asked.

“Don’t ask questions, Stan, just hurry up!” Ford tossed the fishing supplies they’d bought on Mabel’s boat, stuffed the magazine away in his jacket, and then ran back down the lake after the crazy old woman.

* * *

Stan and Ford followed the curve of the beach behind some trees and saw a boat drawn up against the shore.  It was old, with peeling paint and what looked like a bird’s nest in the soft rotting wood near the bow. The wheelhouse had a canopy stretched out from the roof, shading a couch with broken springs, a pile of what looked like broken engine parts, and a rocking chair.  And there was someone sitting in the chair - the old lady!

Ford stopped several yards away and cupped his hands around his mouth.  "Hello? Uh, ma'am?"

The woman had been rocking back and forth slowly, fiddling with a camera and some pliers.  She jumped when she heard his voice.

"Who's there?!" She exclaimed, leaping onto the side of the wheelhouse like a gecko. "G-go away!"

“We want to talk about your monster!" Stan shouted.

She peered at them through dirty glasses.  “Really?”

"We've seen weird stuff around here, too,” Ford said. “We can help you if you help us! We can find that monster together!"

A huge grin spread over her face.  “Well, why didn’t you say so!” She ran into the wheelhouse and was back a second later with a coil of rope.  She threw it down the side of the boat and the twins climbed up to the deck.

“I’m Stan,” Stan said, as soon as he climbed over the railing.  “The nerdy guy’s Ford!”

"I'm Chiu!" She put out her hand to shake.  She had small colorful headbands on her fingers, like rings.  Also, she smelled pretty bad up close.

Stan held his nose and he shook hands.  

Then it was Ford’s turn.  

“Oooh! An extra finger!” Chiu said.  Ford tensed and pulled his hand away.  “Aw, don’t be shy! It just means your hands are special.  I like it! Wanna see something neat?” She turned, plunged a hand into a nearby box, and pulled it out again.  Her fingertips were now adorned with forks. “Tada! It’s my improvement of human beings!”

Ford smiled awkwardly, but his shoulders relaxed.  

Stan was looking around.  Up close, the boat looked...well, still pretty shabby.  And Chiu was definitely living there. He saw a couple of old toothbrushes in a cup by the chair.  He also noticed a pile of busted cameras, and several pictures hung up on strings, most of them showing the fuzzy silhouette of an aquatic creature with a really long neck.  

“Is that the gobbly thing?” Stan asked, pointing.  

Chiu nodded and scampered to the photos on all fours.  “Oh, yes! That slippery snake shall not run from me anymore!”

Ford stepped forward eagerly. "Do you think its a reptile or an amphibian?"

"I reckon it’s a reptile! Doesn't show in those pictures, but I think I spotted scales!"

Stan took a second look at the bird’s nest.  A robin was poking its head out and glaring at him.  "Riiiight. So, how are we gonna do this?"

“I have bait!”  Chiu stood and pulled a huge barrel from behind the pile of engine parts.  The words “Fish Food” had been painted on the side. She grabbed a handful of the food with her fork-fingers and held it up.  “That sly critter loves this stuff, but it always gets away before I can take a proper picture!”

Ford set his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes.  “It won’t get away this time!”

* * *

Stan wasn’t even sure the boat could sail (well, sail and not sink), but apparently it was still lakeworthy.  Chiu went to the wheelhouse and started the engine. It purred like a kitten - now he knew what all those spare engine parts had been for - and in mere moments they were heading for the island in the middle of the lake.

While Chiu steered, Stan stood at the stern and threw handfuls of bait into the water.  (He tried to sneak a bite, but the stuff was awful, even worse than brussel sprouts.) Ford ran back and forth from one side of the boat to the other, looking for any signs of the monster.  He had a camera in each hand so he’d be ready to take the photo.

“Is it just me, or is it getting kind of foggy?” Ford asked, frustrated.  “I _hate_ not having glasses!”

Stan shrugged. “I told you, you should just wear mine.”

“The higher prescription makes me dizzy.”  Ford leaned out over the railing as far as he could, squinting.  

Stan grinned.  A golden opportunity was in sight.  He snuck up behind his brother very, very quietly and...

“LOOK OUT!”

“GYAH!” Ford jumped, almost dropped the camera he was holding. Luckily, the wrist strap kept it from falling in the water, but he triggered a flash and startled himself again.  “Ugh! Stanley!”

Stan laughed. "So, how's the lookout?"

Ford rubbed his eyes, scowling. "Stanley, be serious! The monster could show up at any-"

_THUD!_

The boat jolted as if something had hit the hull.  

“We’re here!” Chiu announced.

“Sweet!”  Stan hopped over the railing.  “Let’s go catch ourselves a dinosaur!”

* * *

Fog engulfed everything.

The island had a rocky path around the shore, with imposing pine trees ahead.  Ford passed out the cameras he’d gotten from Chiu’s boat - two each - and then took out his flashlight to lead the way.  With his blurry vision, the flashlight didn’t help too much.

Stan had fallen in behind Ford.  They’d been walking for about a minute when he saw a sign nailed to a tree with the words “Scuttlebutt Island” painted on it.  

"Hey, Ford, look!” He walked up to it and put his hand over the "Scuttle" part and laughed. “Butt Island!"

Chiu Chiuckled and slapped her knee.  

"Stan, come on!" Ford complained.  “We’re here to hunt a monster. We need to focus on the miss-”

_GrrrrRRRRrrrr…_

All three of them instantly huddled up, staring around at the fog.  Fog accidentally dropped his flashlight, but before he could get it, a possum raced up and scurried off with it.

“Hey, my flashlight!”  He squinted into the fog.  “Aggh, I can’t see anything…”

“This way!”  Stan grabbed Ford’s hand and they ran forward, but after about ten seconds it was clear they’d lost the little thief in the mist.  

“We can go back!” Chiu offered. “I know I must have another flashlight on the boat!”

“No, wait, I can hear it! Stan! Ten o’ clock!”

Stan swiped a rock from the ground and threw it where Ford was pointing.  They heard a tiny squeal and a thunk. When they ran over, they found that the possum had dropped the flashlight and ran away.  Ford scooped it up.

_GrrrrRRRRrrrr…_

It was louder this time. A flock of birds took flight nearby.

"Guys! We're close!" Ford wiped away the opossum spit and kept ran towards the sound. "Over here!"

"You're welcome," Stan grumbled.

Ford whipped out his cameras as he ran, and Stan and Chiu did the same.  They came to the opposite edge of the island, right up to the shore. Ford stopped at the treeline, hiding behind a fallen log.  Even with his poor eyesight, he could see a silhouette in the water, just like the ones in Chiu’s pictures.

He motioned to the others.  "Ok, this is it, guys! Everyone got your cameras ready?"

The other two nodded, cameras out.

"Good.” He took a deep breath.  “Ready...GO!"

Ford jumped over the log, sprinting towards the silhouette and snapping pictures like crazy.

And then he came within a meter and realized what the silhouette _really_ was.

“Are those... Beavers?”

Stan came up next to him and nodded solemnly.  “Yep. Beavers.”

A wooden carcass of an old boat had been forgotten in the water, forming an eerie but misleading silhouette. Several few beavers had even made a house out of it.  They were leaping around, chittering to each other and occasionally falling in the water.

Ford lowered the camera in dismay. "But... But... I heard a monster noise!"

_GrrrrRRRRrrrr…_

The sound was so close it made Ford jump.  Chiu, who had come up next to him, tapped his shoulder and pointed.  A beaver sat on a rotting log a few steps away, chewing on a rusty chainsaw.  Sometimes the saw would activate, causing the awful growling noise.

“Oh, no…”

“Cheer up, Sixer!” Stan said, snapping pictures.  “We can sell these online and get that prize anyway!”  

“Yeah, but…”  Ford shook his head and walked away, stopping on a flat rock at the water’s edge.  “I _know_ there’s a monster here.  Crazy Chiu said it and I’m going to prove it!  We’ll get that prize and prove everyone wrong!”

“Ford...” Chiu began.  

“We will do it!” He insisted, turning to face them. “We’ve gotta be close, I can feel it!”

Stan looked over and paled.  “You’re, uh, definitely close, Ford…”  He pointed.

A giant shadow fell over them.

Ford turned around.

A creature emerged from the water, its long neck taller than a two-story building, seaweed sloughing off its massive reptilian body. Its jaws were heavy with sharp tusks and fangs. A long mane running down its back. Its eyes literally glowed through the mist.

“ _GRRRRAAAAARRRR!_ ”

"RUN!" Chiu grabbed their shoulders and sprinted back the way they’d come.  

The monster roared behind them and the twins raced to keep up with Chiu’s long legs. 

 _First Mabel being all hyper-energetic, now Chiu’s crazy running_ , Stan thought. _What is it with fit old people?!_

The ground trembled and Ford glanced back.  The Gobblewonker was actually crawling out of the water and into the forest, its huge webbed feet knocking down trees like they were Lincoln Logs!  

“Wait, the picture!”  Ford spun on the spot and raised his camera-

“WATCH OUT!”  Stan dove for Ford and shoved him out of the way just as a pine tree came crashing down. They rolled to their feet and kept running.

“I broke my camera!” Ford shouted.  

“Just run before it breaks your face!”

Chiu reached the boat first and quickly helped them aboard.  She clambered after them and hurried to the wheelhouse, starting up the boat as fast as she could.  

The gobblewonker appeared through the trees, roaring and bulldozing a path straight for their boat.  Stan and Ford screamed.

“Hang on!” Chiu shouted.

The twins barely had time to grab the rail before the boat shot across the lake like a skipping stone.  The monster plunged into the water after them, its yellow eyes burning through the water, targeting them like a torpedo.

“We’re gonna die!” Stan shouted.

“Take a picture first!” Ford shouted back.  

“HOLD ON!” Chiu called, and the boat suddenly swung a sharp right just as the monster reared up and snapped at the air where they’d been merely seconds before.

* * *

Mabel still had plenty of time with the rented boat, so she decided to put it to good use.

She managed to paddle around the lake, observing the other townsfolk enjoying their fishing day. She smiled sadly for a moment.  It would’ve been nice to have Stan and Ford with her…

A splashing sound reached her ear, and she turned to look.  

There was another little rowboat about two yards away.  A very familiar young man was yanking a fish out of the water with his bare hands and then proceeding to wrestle with it, while another young man cheered him on.  But Mabel’s attention was immediately drawn to the woman sitting with them, her nose fixed in a magazine, her long red braid looped over one shoulder.

Mabel smiled and paddled closer until their boats bumped.  “Whoops!” she laughed. “Guess I don’t know my own strength!”

The woman looked up from her magazine and smiled at Mabel.  “Well, well. Hey, Mabs. How’s it going?”

Dan looked up.  “Ms. Pines! How are-”

The fish slipped out of Dan’s headlock and smacked him in the beard.

“Get it, get it!” the other boy cried, but the fish flopped over the side of the boat and escaped into the water.  

Mabel laughed.  “Don’t worry, boys - if I catch a fish, I’ll let you have it to make up for that one!”

“Thanks, Ms. Pines.” Dan said.  

"Puh-lease, I'm not your boss today. You can call me Mabel."

"At ease, soldier." Wild Wendy, Dan’s grandma, patted his shoulder and turned back to Mabel. “It’s been a while!”

“I’ve been busy working your grandson from dawn to dusk,” Mabel teased.  The Corduroys were a family of lumberjacks, and Dan’s job at the Shack was mostly just to help him buy the equipment he’d need for his usual logging jobs during the school year.  Wendy herself looked quite laid back, lounging in the boat, but Mabel knew better - Wendy almost always had her ax on her, and she could wield it like a warrior queen.

For the moment, however, Wendy just uses her magazine to shade her face as Dan resumed his fishing. The other boy went back on cheering for him.

"Didn't think you like fishing,” Wendy commented to Mabel. “what are you doing out here?"

"Family bonding day!" Mabel smiled, then glanced he custom-made fishing hats on her lap. “Sort of. The little rascals went on their own adventure. But that's fine! Didn't wanna hold them back."

Wendy cocked her head.  "Rascals…? Oh, right, I heard-"

Wendy stopped as the boat rocked.  Dan proudly threw another defeated fish into a barrel with the others.

“Well, anyway,” Wendy said.  “Two kids this summer, huh? Hope I get to meet them sometime soon. I hope they’re not giving you too much trouble. But yeah…” She nodded to her passengers.  “Family Fun Day over here, too.”

"I guess we're...in the same boat!" Mabel laughed, gesturing towards their boats.

Wendy opened her mouth to answer-

And then suddenly they weren’t in their boats anymore.

A bigger boat shot past them, coming within three feet of their vessels, rocking them violently.  A split-second later something huge and fast rocketed through the water below, throwing their boats into the air like little bath toys.  Mabel gave a yell as her boat flipped and she was tossed overboard.

“Is everyone okay?” She gasped, and swallowed a mouthful of lake water.  

Dan’s fish went flying up and raining back down.  

"The fishes! They seek revenge!" Dan exclaimed. "Swim, Tyler! Swim!"

He swam away while trying to shield his friend.

“Gee, thanks.” Wendy said sarcastically.  

Mabel looked around, stunned.  “What was that?”

“Who knows?” Wendy said, shrugging.  She kicked her way towards Mabel. “C’mon, better follow them before they launch a counter-attack against the trout.”

* * *

Chiu zig-zagged the boat at full speed, trying to lose the monster or tire it out, but nothing worked.  She’d finally been forced to drive it through the most populated part of the lake, half-hoping the other boats would at least slow it down.  She managed not to hit anyone (mostly thanks to Stan yelling “STARBOARD! STARBOARD! YOUR OTHER STARBOARD!”) but the monster stayed right on their tail, barely more than two meters away.  

At the back of the boat, Ford pulled out his second camera and tried to take a picture, his free hand still gripping the rail.  

“Really?!” Stan yelled at him. “ _Now?!_ ”

"Well, we're closer than ever!" Ford said, but as he raised the camera his hand slipped and he nearly lost his grip.  The camera went flying into the water. “AH NO! Stan, quick! Gimme your camera!”

“You two stay put!” Chiu shouted, turning to scold them.  She wasn’t watching where she was going and the boat plowed right between two boats up ahead - where two guys had been trying to transport a sheet of glass between them.  The boat shattered the glass in an instant. “Sorry!” Chiu called.

Stan grabbed a camera from his back pocket and shoved it at Ford.  The sooner he could get that crazy photo, the sooner he would stop putting himself in danger over it.  Stan wrapped an arm around his brother to brace him and Ford steadied the camera, aiming it at the water.  

“Come on, come on,” Ford muttered.  “I need a clear shot, get out of the water!”

As if it heard him, the monster’s head suddenly pulled straight up out of the water, towering over them, its jaws wide open in a horrible bellow of rage.  The twins screamed and ducked just as it lunged for them. Its head swung on its long neck, smashing its head against the back of the boat.

The vessel shuddered violently and nearly tipped over.  The twins were thrown across the deck. They scrambled towards the wheelhouse, leaning against the cabin's walls.

The creature seemed to have made itself dizzy with that attack, which gave the trio an advantage - but not for long.

The boat had changed course with the impact and was heading towards the waterfall. The granite walls closed in around them.

“I can’t shake it!” Chiu shouted.  

Ford thought fast.  He’d flipped through the journal so many times that he almost knew it by heart. There was just one thing that _might_ save them.  

“Chiu! GO INTO THE FALLS!" He stumbled towards the bow, pointing at the roaring water. "I think there's a cave behind there!"

"YOU _THINK?!_ " Stan said shrilly.  

Chiu aimed the boat where Ford had pointed.  They screamed and braced themselves.

The boat reached the waterfall - and then kept going, driving straight into a massive spherical cavern hidden behind the falls.  It was vast, dark, and moist. The boat ran around the rocky shore almost immediately. All three passengers were knocked out of their feet, and water splashed up in their faces.  Chiu smacked her head against the wall of the wheelhouse. The boat shuddered to a standstill.

“Is- Is everyone alright?” Chiu asked faintly, rubbing her noggin.  

Stan and Ford groaned.  

The gobblewonker suddenly broke through the falls with a roar.

Chiu reached the twins just as they sat up. She wrapped her arms around them, Stan raised his fists, and Ford pulled a crossbow out of his jacket and took aim.

The creature advanced.

“Stay back!” Ford threatened. He didn't really want to hurt it, but-

Suddenly, behind the trio, a chorus of squeaks emerged. Even the gobblewonker stopped short.

They turned around.

In between a few rocks was a nest made of dirt, foliage, and gravel. A group of wobbled out of it, chirping and squeaking. They were about the size of large dogs, and they had rubber flippers, long necks, glowing eyes-

“Baby gobblewonkers!” Stan cried.

Chiu whistled.  “Well kettle my corn!”

The baby ‘wonkers waddled towards them.  The gobblewonker made a long, low howl, less threatening than worried.  

Ford took a risk and lowered his crossbow, backing slightly away. Chiu and Stan crouched, trying to look less threatening. The babies clustered around them.

Chiu cooed and held out one hand to the nearest baby.  It seemed intrigued by the rubber bands on her fingers.  She carefully petted its snout, then stroked its growing crest. The creature jumped slightly at her touch, then leaned into her hand.  Stan grinned and followed suit, as did Ford. Their skin was almost exactly like rubber along their snouts, but hardened into stiff scales farther down their backs.  

“Wow,” Ford whispered.  He glanced up at the gobblewonker.  It had lowered its head, but stopped growling or trying to kill them.  

After a minute or so of petting, the babies wandered over to their mother, making noises that sounded like a cross between a baby whale and a duckling.  The gobblewonker dipped its nose down to greet them, and the fringes at the sides of its face slowly folded, like it wasn’t going to fight them anymore.

"Welp," Stan said. "There goes our prize."

Ford sighed in agreement.  The camera felt heavy in his wrist, but he couldn't bring himself to snap a picture. If he mailed in concrete proof that the gobblewonker existed, someone would eventually find it, discover the nest, and probably steal the hatchlings for museums or experiments.  

"I was not expecting to find this,” Chiu told the monster. “You were just trying to take care of your kids! All that bait I ended up giving you... Hopefully, it served you well." 

The gobblewonker turned its head to stare at her.  

Chiu took off her helmet. “I'm sorry for judging you, big... Guy? Girl? Either way, I won't bother you anymore. And I'll try to not let anyone else bother you, either!"

The gobblewonker’s head swung forward - and it briefly nuzzled Chiu’s hair with a low snuffling noise. The woman giggled and patted it back.

"Sorry about the boat." Stan said, rubbing the back of his head.

Ford and Chiu looked back at the boat. It had about fifty new holes, dings, and scratches in it, including one the size of a car tire from running aground in the cave.  

But Chiu just waved a hand.  “Ah, don't worry about it. I can fix it like that!" She snapped her fingers. "I should do that now. I need to get you two back."

“That would be good.” Stan agreed.  

The trio unloaded the bait barrel from the boat, leaving it for the gobblewonkers. Then, while Chiu worked on the vehicle, making sure it would be able to carry them back safely, the twins played with the little creatures.  The gobblewonker entered the cave and curled itself along the wall, watching its babies as they wobbled and rolled across the gritty beach.

“Okay!”  Chiu announced.  “The engine’s ready to go!”

“Bye, Chompers!” Stan said, patting one of them on the head.

The ones Ford was playing with tried to nuzzle his hair like they’d seen their parent do, but two of them were a little too short.  He laughed and knelt so they could reach him.

They boarded the boat.  The engine made worrying clunking and grinding noises, but Chiu maneuvered them out of the cave and onto the open water.  

The sun was setting, and fewer boats were on the lake.  The twins looked, but they didn’t spot Mabel anywhere.

Chiu drove back to the spot where the twins had first found her.  

“Thanks for the monster hunting help!” Chiu said, as the two of them climbed down the side of the boat.  

"Hey, Chiu!” Stan called back. "We know a thing or two about boats. If you ever need help, give us a call!”

“It’s the least we could do.” agreed Ford.  

“Don't worry about me," Chiu said, smiling. "Though, if you two feel so inclined, feel free to come by anytime!"

The twins headed back down the beach towards the pier. The Bait Shop was finally closed, and they checked the picnic benches, but Mabel wasn’t there, either.  Stan finally spotted her in her rickety rowboat, pulled up on the sand. When they got closer, they could see her still working on the fishing hats, exactly as they’d left her.  

Ford’s gut twisted guiltily.

Mabel looked up when she heard them approach. "There you are! I was starting to worry you two got eaten by some monster!" Mabel laughed and ruffled Ford’s hair. "So, how was your awesome adventure?  And why is your hair...gooey?”

The twins laughed nervously.

"It was kinda boring.” Ford said.  

" _Boring?!_ We found beavers with chainsaws!" Stan interrupted, waving his arms. "At Butt Island! There was a whole LEGION of them!"

Well, that wasn't a complete lie.

Mabel gasped dramatically and then giggled, obviously brushing it off as a joke. It kinda bothered Ford how they couldn't tell her the truth - she wouldn't believe them if they did.

“I had an adventure of my own,” Mabel said proudly.  “There are some pretty big fish out there this season! Something knocked me out of my boat!" She patted her sweater and they noticed she looked rather damp.

“Yeah,” Stan said, laughing nervously.  “wonder how that could’ve happened, haha…”

Mabel didn’t notice.  “I was thinking of looking for you two,” she said. “I bet you two could handle those fish! So, if you two aren't too tired...we still got a few hours of rent left!" She cut the thread for a plastic jewel on the last hat, then offered them to the twins.  “What do you say?”

Stan and Ford smiled, taking the hats and putting them on.

“Not bad,” Stan said. "With all those sequins, we're gonna be a beacon to all the fish around here!"

Mabel squealed happily, proud of her work.  The twins hopped on board. Before setting sail, Ford pulled out his camera and they took a group picture.

They didn’t run into many or big fishes, but to Mabel’s delight, they took several more pictures - some of the lake as the background, some of Mabel telling jokes, and some of the single tiny fish they managed to real in.  Stan insisted on holding the fish closer to the camera, to make it look bigger.

Mabel was so delighted she told them she was planning on starting a scrapbook especially for their summer in Gravity Falls.

Ford smiled to himself.  It wasn’t exactly contest-winning evidence, but he, Stan, and Mabel would treasure those photos all the same.

 

**QRW HYHUBWKLQJ LV ZKDW LW VHHPV.**

****


	5. Counterparaffin Pt.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back, back again! im so so sorry it took me so long to return but i decided to rewrite this fic so thats why i just came back now. if you have been keeping up with this, you aren't missing new plot, but i added a couple more things to the previous chapters so its less rushed and they all have now been beta readed by the beautiful redwoodroots from here on ao3! yall should check out their works too, and thanks a billion again red! id also like to thank another friend, absoluterift at fanfiction.net, for giving me some input and inspiring me to rewrite this, thanks! you should check out his fanfic, Once More! its great!
> 
> i decided to change the schedule, it will be posted every monday instead, bi-monthly! again, im gonna try to keep up with the schedule, but forgive me if i don't. im still gettiing the hang of writing.
> 
> alright, now the chapter finally!

"I'm afraid your services won't be required here, sir. My men have examined the evidence, and this is obviously an accident."

On television, the constable turned to his consultant - a hat-wearing duck. Stan sat watching the show, his eyes glued to the screen. He had a bowl of popcorn in his lap and was stuffing his cheeks like a squirrel. Ford was sitting on the chair behind him, sketching in a notepad.

The duck quacked at the constable.  Subtitles appeared at the bottom of the screen: "An accident, constable? Or is it… Murder?!"

The man gasped. "What?!"

The episode cut off dramatically, showing first the credits and then a series of commercials.  

Stan swallowed his popcorn with difficulty. “That duck is amazing!” He said.

Ford shrugged. “Meh."

He frowned. "I bet you would like it if you just gave it a chance!"

Ford put down his sketches. "I guess it's kinda cool, kinda funny, but I saw all those plot twists coming from a mile away. There are clues everywhere!  And I guess it would be easier to find them if you're that close to the ground."

“Oh yeah?” Stan grabbed a fistful of popcorn and took aim.

Ford crumpled a piece of paper and they prepared to do battle-

And then Mabel walked into the room. Both twins hid their ammunition behind their backs, smiling innocently.  

"Hey, kids! What are you two doing?"

"Nothing." Ford buried his nose in his sketches again.

Stan grinned. "Watching _Ducktective_!"

"I love _Ducktective!_ " Mabel smiled and squeezed herself on the chair beside Ford, effectively squishing him. "What about you, Ford? I bet you have looots of theories about it!"

Ford squirmed onto the chair’s armrest. “Uh…”

Stan snorted. He knew Ford didn’t want to watch, but the nerd didn’t want to upset their grauntie, either.  

"... I'll watch it with you guys." Ford said finally.

“Excellent!” Mabel put one arm around Ford’s shoulder and mussed Stan’s hair with her free arm.  “Maybe you little smarty-pants could give share some theories with me. I could really use the break. The Shack's attractions need some improvement, but I'm going through an art block!" She groaned and threw her arm over her eyes dramatically.

"More glitter?" Stan suggested.

"More sweaters!" Ford said. He was currently wearing one of the sweaters Mabel had sent them two or three years ago.  

"Those are great ideas," Mabel smiled at them. "But I need something really new..."

Suddenly the TV mentioned the name of the town. Mabel looked up.

" _There’s_ an idea!”

A local reporter was talking about a wax figure exposition in the library. The footage behind the reporter included a room full of wax figures.

“The temporary exhibit showcases celebrities from across the ages.” The reporter was saying. “Famous historical figures, more recent celebrities, and even famous fictional characters can now be used for inane selfies on InstaHam.”

“Wish I’d thought of that myself.” Mabel sighed. For a moment she slumped in her seat, then straightened with a bounce. “Welp! Gotta get inspired and not jealous! I think I want to check the place out - would you guys like to come?”

“Hell yeah!” Stan shouted. Mabel frowned at him, and he coughed. “Uh… Heck yeah?”

She smiled.

“Sure, why not?” Ford shrugged.

Mabel ruffled his hair.  “Alright! Tomorrow, after we- OH MY GOSH, WAS THAT ALEXANDER HAMILTON??” Mabel shouted, and both twins jumped. “Sorry, sorry. I may or may not had a crush on him when I was your age!”

Stan gagged, then jabbed a thumb at Ford. “Actually, he has a nerd crush on Nikola Tesla.”

Ford blushed and threw the crumpled paper ball at Stan. “I just admire his intellect, that’s all!”

“Ooh, but he's quite handsome, too!” Mabel squealed, just as _Ducktective_ came back on. She scooped Stan from the floor and onto her lap. “We’ll check that exposition tomorrow, but for now, I’m in for a great mystery!”

* * *

Mabel took the twins to the town the next day.

Before they could go to the wax figures exposition, though, they made a quick stop at the optometrist. Ford had lost his glasses after their incident with the gnomes, and once Mabel noticed, she immediately wanted to order him new ones.  Ford was relieved to see clearly again, but Stan was less than thrilled - Mabel had ordered him a new pair, too, and made him actually wear them.

Finally, she drove the three of them headed towards the Gravity Falls library.  The library wasn't a usually very crowded place, but quite a few people had gathered around for the exposition.

Stan hopped out of the car first - he was eager to see the statues, but also still grumpy from wearing glasses.

Once inside, though, he perked right up - there were wax figures everywhere, most of them dressed in clothes from the 70s or something, peeking out from behind bookshelves like old-timey pranksters and staring at visitors as if they were going to start telling them what it was like without color TV or even (gasp) the internet.  

Stan pushed through the crowd and ran up to a wax Sherlock Holmes.  “Hey, Sixer, check it out!” He pretended to pick Holmes’ nose. “Bleeeh!”

Ford peered up at the waxen face.  “Do these statues look… Creepily realistic to you?”

Before Stan could answer, a man stepped in and slapped Stan’s hand away. “You don't know what you’re playing with, kid!” Said the man, though he looked more anxious than angry.

“Sheesh, sorry.” Stan walked away, rubbing his hand.

“You shouldn't be touching them, Stanley.” Ford told him.

Stan looked offended. “I didn't! I was just having fun!”

“I wish I could enjoy myself more, too.” Ford looked toward Mabel - she had been admiring the statue of Alexander Hamilton, who almost seemed to be watching him. “Man, those guys are giving me the creeps!”

Stan grinned and grabbed Wax Robin Hood, making him swing side to side.  “They watch you when you’re sleeping!” He mocked in a sing-song voice.

The man from earlier came back.  

“Kid, I’m warning you…”

“Hey, how much for the statues?” Stan asked eagerly, darting out from behind Robin. “More specifically, how much for Hamilton over there?”

“These are not for sale! I tell you again, you don't know what you're messing with, boy!” The man shuddered, lowering his voice. “These statues are… Are…”

“C'moooon, it's a fair trade! ” Stan pulled a 10-dollar bill out of his pocket and winked at the man.  “Look! You still would have a Hamilton!”

“These statues come for a greater price than-”

“Ugh, fine! Whatever.” Stan shoved the money back in his pocket. “I’ll just take him when you’re not looking.”

Ford grabbed Stan and dragged him away before the guy could kick them out. “Stanley, stop it! What are you trying to do??”

“I just thought Mabel would like to have him.” Stan muttered.  “And wouldn’t you like him too? Or is it just the one from the musical?”

Ford turned beet-red. “Shut up!"

But Stan was grinning now. "Sorry that there's not a Nikola Tesla or a Carl Sagan statue. Bet we could pose them like they were doing nerd stuff together, amiright?"

Ford groaned and walked away.

He found himself moving towards a wax figure of some goblin-like man with a microphone. The man had gone off to sweat nervously in a corner. Ford eyed him in passing.

"What was that guy trying to say though?" He asked.  

"He was just being stingy." Stan said. Then he nudged Ford. "So, when are we gonna do this?"

"Do what?"

"Steal Mr. Hamilton, duh."

"What??" Ford pulled him closer and whispered, "We can't do that! And how do you intend to steal an entire statue?"

"With the help of my best friend!" Stan leaned against him, patting him on the shoulder.

Ford groaned.

“C'mon! Mabel would be happy and that might be our best stunt yet!"

Normally Ford caved in, but today the statues were giving off serious I-will-haunt-you-in-your-dreams vibes.  He pulled gently away from Stan and went off to stand next to Mabel. He’d be much happier once they left this creepy exhibit behind.

Mabel eventually left Hamilton alone.  Stan joined them and they all walked around the exposition until closing time. By then, Mabel was practically beaming with excitement.  

“This was fabulous, guys!” She said as they walked out. “What an inspiration! Tomorrow I’ll start working on the new attraction - you two can even help me with the glitter!”

Stan stopped suddenly and caught Ford’s arm. “Sure thing, Grauntie Mabel,” He said. “but we were thinking of going to the arcade.  Can we meet up with you later at the Shack?”

She shrugged. "Suit yourselves. Call me if you two want a ride back!" Mabel waved good-bye, headed to her car, and drove away.

Ford eyed his brother. “... We're not going to the arcade, I presume."

"We _could_ go to the arcade… But first we have a date with Mr. Hamilton."

Ford could only sigh. Well, if he couldn’t talk Stan out of it, at least he might be able to keep them from getting caught.

They headed back inside the library after the pink Cadillac was out of sight.

As soon the exhibit closed, the usual library patrons resumed their routines. The wax figures were placed in a locked room at the back, and the few people still hanging out were all focused on reading or checking out books. The staff was limited to one person at the check -out desk, a lady who wasn’t too attentive in the first place.  

This made it easy for them to sneak around.

They went to the back room. Stan crouched in front of the door and pulled out a bobby pin he’d retrieved from Mabel's car. He had made collecting pins a habit - you never know when you might need them, though their mom didn't appreciate it when her bobby pins went missing.

Ford was a few steps away, standing guard. When Stan popped the lock, they hurried inside and shut the door behind them.  

The room was dark. The only illumination came from a window with its curtains drawn almost shut.  Even with his new glasses, all Ford could see was a murky room filled with shadowy, menacing figures.  Except for the figures’ glass eyes. They glinted ominously in the half-light.

He swallowed. 

“Over here, nerd!” Stan called.

Ford followed his brother’s voice and found him standing next to the Hamilton statue. They dragged it to the window, which, luckily, had been left unlocked.  

“What’re we supposed to do with it once we get it out?” Ford asked.  

“We’ll head for the trees!” Stan said, pointing.  “There’s trees like, everywhere. Nobody’s going to see us.”

Ford climbed out the window.  While he pulled at Hamilton’s waxy shoulders, Stan shoved the statue’s base, and together they wrestled it out of the library. They closed the window behind them and lugged it towards the trees.

Lugging a realistic statue around in secret made Ford feel… Criminal.  

“I feel like we’re lugging a dead body.” He muttered.

“Yeah!” Stan laughed. “It’s like we killed a person!”

Ford cringed.

They managed to carry the statue all the way to the Shack, with a few pauses in between so they (mostly Ford) could rest. Once they’d returned, they set it just behind some bushes and Stan peeked over the leaves.  

“Okay, looks like she’s still giving tours,” Stan said, turning around.  

Ford was bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air.

“Dude, you’re never gonna hunt monsters like that.”

Ford glared at him.  “Just- Let’s get the- Ow, ow, cramps!”

When the stitch in his side had passed, they carried the statue to the far side of the Shack where Mabel wouldn’t see and headed in through the back door. Lugging it up the stairs proved especially challenging, until Ford devised a temporary pulley system so they wouldn’t have to bear so much weight.  

They made it up to the attic, put the wax figure in a corner, and threw a sheet over it.  

“There!” Stan said, standing back.  “Tomorrow we’ll throw some glitter on him and Mabel will love him even more!”

“Auuugh!” Ford groaned, and threw himself onto his bed. Stan did likewise, bouncing extra hard and laughing.

Ford rolled over and got out his journal so he could start drawing.  Over on his bed, Stan started singing:

_Pour some glitter on me_

_Ooh, in the name of love_

* * *

Despite his sore muscles, Ford was still up, reading a mystery book.  Suddenly a shuffling sound caught his ear.

He looked up, but Stan was fast asleep, flopped over on his stomach and snoring away.  

Ford frowned slightly. Maybe he was just being paranoid. It could’ve been a squirrel on the roof or something.

He was just about to return his attention to his book when the sound came again, louder this time.  It even woke up Stan.

“Ford, look,” Stan grumbled, rubbing his eyes, “you can read your nerdy books until 2 am or whatever, as long as you don’t make so much noise!”

“It wasn’t me!” Ford whispered.  “Listen!”

They fell silent, tensed for action.  The sound returned.

Whatever it was, _it was in the attic_.

Ford got up quietly and raised the oil lamp, peering around the room.  A shapeless mass was moving around in the shadows!

“AAH! GHOST!” Stan screamed, and threw his pillow at it.

“Who throws physical objects at a ghost?” Ford snapped.  “Get ready, here it comes!”

Stan leaped out of bed and hurried to Ford.  The two of them backed up as the figure advanced, huge, shapeless, still covered by the blanket.  Then an eerily human hand reached from behind the blanket and pulled it off.

It was Alexander Hamilton!

He bared his teeth at them, glass eyes glistening with fury.  “Where am I?” He demanded. “What have you two done?!”

Ford set down the oil lamp in shock.  "How... How is this possible... You're made of wax!"

The figure snarled at him. “YOU!”

“Stay back!” Ford grabbed his crossbow and aimed it, backing up.  

Hamilton ignored the warning and charged towards them. Stan yelled and Ford fired the bow.

“Who fires a crossbow at magic wax?!” Stan demanded.  

“ _Magic?!_ ” Hamilton shrieked. “I’m not magic- I’m CURSED!”

Ford stared at him. “How…”

Hamilton angrily yanked the bow out of his forehead, leaving a nasty-looking hole. “Years ago,” He snarled. “during a waxing moon, my companions and I were cursed to come to life every night!”

“Compan- You mean _every_ wax figure is alive right now?!”

"You were right, wax people are creepy!" Stan cried out.

Hamilton’s eyes glinted in the light from the oil lamp. “It wasn’t a terrible life for us cursed beings - at first. Our “owner” maintained the exhibit, carrying us around the country, but that only allowed the masses to admire us! And when the world was asleep, we would own the night!”

“That sounds promising.” Stan said, intrigued.  

Hamilton toyed with the dart between his fingers, a wicked look in his eyes. “But you,” He said slowly.  “you two twerps had the audacity to bring me to this crappy old place! You kidnapped me!”

“Hey, we didn’t know you were alive!” Ford protested.

“Have your mother not ever told you to not take what doesn’t belongs to you?”

Stan shrugged. “I tried to offer 10 dollars but that guy didn’t accept it.”

“10 DOLLARS?!” Hamilton roared.  The twins jumped and backed up until they hit the wall. Hamilton clenched the dart in his fist. “I needed to kill you two already since you two found out our secret. But now- ” His eyes rolled back inside his head until only the scleras were visible. “NOW I’LL MAKE IT WORSE!”

He charged.

Stan and Ford screamed, diving apart to dodge the blow. Hamilton swung the bolt at Ford and he stumbled back, firing another dart into Hamilton’s wax shoulder.  It just seemed to make him angry and he turned, his face red with fury.

“FORD, LOOK OUT!” Stan grabbed the oil lamp and threw it at the wax figure’s face.  

The glass shattered, dousing the wax figure in burning oil. The fire didn’t go out, either. It spread rapidly along Hamilton’s face, his hair, his collar, enveloping in flame.  Hamilton screamed and hit himself desperately, trying to put the fire out, but his fingers fused and melted under the heat. The fire reached his legs and Hamilton collapsed to the floor, devolving into a shapeless puddle of pastels.  Small flames still flickered on the surface of the puddle. Hamilton’s cries faded away.

The twins stared at the mess, gasping in the sudden silence. He was made of murderous wax, sure, but seeing him die like that was deeply disturbing.

The fire reached the edge of the wax and started to eat at the wooden floor.

“Put it out!” Stan cried, leaping forward. He grabbed his thrown pillow and started smothering the flame.

Ford grabbed the blanket and joined him, folding it up and patting down the fire until not even a spark remained.  

“Well.” Stan said finally.  

Ford tried for a triumphant smile.  “You threw away your shot.” He said, looking down at the melted Hamilton.

“… Is that a reference? I haven’t seen the musical yet.”

Ford sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

“Kids?” Mabel shouts from downstairs. They jumped. “Is everything okay? I heard a big noise!”

“Sorry!” Stan shouted back. “We… We were playing!”

“With the crossbow!” Ford added.

Stan gave him an exasperated look.

But this didn’t seem to bother Mabel. “Well, this isn’t the time for that! Head straight back to bed, you two!”

“Okay!” They chorused.  

They waited until they couldn’t hear her moving around anymore, then they scraped the now-hardened wax from the floor and rolled it up in the blanket. The fire had left a scorch mark on the floors, but they’d managed to keep the house from burning down.  

“At least he’s not going to stare at us in our sleep.” Ford said helpfully, getting back into bed.

“Yeah.” Stan kicked the pile of wax chunks further under his mattress.  “Unless his curse includes de-melting and strangling us in our sleep.”

Ford shivered. “Let’s hope not.”

* * *

The next day, the twins went to the arcade to relax. Mabel had even given them money for it. Usually their dad would only give them spare change, and only if they’d done well in school, boxing, or working at the pawn shop.

The arcade was surprisingly decent, especially for a small town like Gravity Falls. A lot of games lined the walls and even more were set up in the middle of the floor. Stan and Ford worked their way past the crowd at Dancy Pants Revolution and tried to find a game that wasn’t taken yet.

Stan was the one who spotted it, in a cobwebby corner at the back: Fight Fighters, one of their absolute favorites!

“I call dibs on player one!” Stan called, running up to it.

“Fine.” Ford groaned, popping in his quarter. They chose their characters and started a match.  “So,” He said, lowering his voice. “What are we going to do with… You-know-what?”

“Take that shit outside and bury it six feet under, what else? Now pay attention to the game!” Stan retorted, shifting side to side as he delivered his attacks. “Look out because I'm about to destroy you!"

"No, you're not!"

Colors flash across the screen and the exaggerated attack hits Ford's character, who fell to the ground, defeated.

On the screen, a very pink girl threw a couple of punches and laughed, holding up her fingers in a peace sign.

“Hyah!” She shouted gleefully. “Winners don't lose!”

Ford took out another quarter and deposited it into the machine for a rematch.

* * *

After a few hours of beating each other at various video games, they decided to head back to the Shack.  They’d barely left the arcade, though, when Ford stopped in his tracks with a sharp gasp.

“Ford? What’s wrong?”

"Look." Ford pointed to a poster taped to the arcade window. It had a picture of the wax exhibit from yesterday’s news report, and a circle was drawn in red around Alexander Hamilton. The caption at the bottom said that the statue had been stolen and an investigation to look for him was underway.  

They looked at each other uneasily.

“Stan… You don’t think those other wax guys would go looking, too, do you? I mean, he said they were all sentient...”

Stan hesitated. “Nah. Besides, no one’s gonna miss a creep like _that_ , even if they are all crazy wax murderers.” Stan suddenly remembered the man who’d warned Stan away from messing with the statues. He hadn’t seemed too bad. And now Stan realized he was in charge of a bunch of crazy cursed candlesticks. “... Oh boy, I hope that owner guy is okay."

"Me too." Ford rubbed the back of his neck. "What should we do?"

"What can we do? We can't return him. And even if we did, those wax weirdos will definitely kill us! Look at that one, she has an ax! And that guy has a sword!"

Ford winced at the photo.  "That’s Lizzie Borden. She was accused of murdering her parents. The other guy is Genghis Khan, he-"

"Yeesh!" Stan covered his ears and started walking away. "I don't want your history lesson and I don't wanna think about this anymore!"

Ford agreed.

But he didn’t think this was over yet.

* * *

Stan and Ford returned to the Shack.

Mabel had finished her tours for the day, so the remaining herd of tourists were burning their money on trinkets in the Gift Shop. When they walked in, she was in the middle of explaining why a broken snow globe was a sound financial purchase. Carla was sitting behind the cash register, braiding her hair while waiting for customers. She looked up and smiled as they enter.

Stanley promptly blushed and hurried to sit next to her on the counter, scooting as close as he dared. Ford rolled his eyes.  

“HeyCarlait’sbeenawhile!” Stan rushed, laughing nervously.  “Sooo, how was your day?"

Carla smiles and gestures around the shop. "You know, same old, same old."

Stan nodded. _Wow, her smile is so wonderful, her hair drapes over her shoulder just like a mermaid’s, wait what are we talking about?_

"But I got this new scrunchie!” Carla was saying, tying off her braid. “My other ones were completely busted.  And I'm going to a place today after work, so I wanted to look..." She looked away nervously, clearing her throat. “Anyway!  What do you think? You like the color?”

"You pretty..." Stan babbled. He shook his head to clear it. “I-I mean! Pretty good!"

“Thanks,” she said, batting her eyelashes playfully. He made finger-guns at her and clicked his tongue.  She laughed.

Ford crept up behind his brother.  When Carla turned away to help a customer, Ford whispered, “ _You pretty, me stupid._ Very articulate, Stanley.”

Stan jumped and turned around, scowling, his face beet-red. Ford laughed.  

The tour group left a few minutes later, and Mabel saw them off at the door.  

"Thanks for visiting! Come back again! Have a nice trip!"  She paused and pulled a couple of bumper stickers out of her sleeves, giving them to a mom.  “Here, Mystery Shack bumper stickers! You can stick them on your bumper, or over your husband's mouth. Am I right, sister? She knows what I'm talking about!"

"Oh! You are bad!" The tourist laughed and took them.

Mabel waved goodbye one last time and shut the door, flipping the sign to ‘Closed’.  

Carla started to get up. "So, I guess that's my cue to-”

"IT'S A DISASTER! A TRAGEDY!"

Carla, Stan, and Ford jumped in unison. Mabel slumped against the door, one arm thrown over her forehead.  

“Um, do I want to know what’s going on?” Carla asked the twins.

“Wax Hamilton!” Mabel said. “He’s been… KIDNAPPED!”

Stan and Ford froze.  

Mabel took a flyer out of her jacket, just like the one they’d seen on the arcade window. “Look! He went missing! All his little wax friends must miss him terribly!”

“I’ll bet they do.” Ford said woodenly.  

Stan put a hand over his chest.  “Who would do such a thing?” He asked dramatically.

Carla frowned slightly. “That’s kind of weird. Who’d want a wax guy in their living room?”

Mabel gasped with indignation.  “You bite your tongue!”

“Yeah, okay, I’m just gonna go get my stuff.”  Carla stepped out from behind the counter and walked off to get her jacket.  

Mabel stared sadly at the flyer.  “The exhibit’s owner came by today to tell me. And apparently it was stolen in broad daylight!  How could people miss a human-sized statue being carted around?”

For a second Stan looked rather smug, but Ford jabbed him with an elbow.

"Well, we'll contact the authorities immediately if we happen to see him." Ford said.

Carla came back wearing her jacket with a backpack over one shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow!” She said, heading for the door.

Mabel waved the flyer at her.  "Carla, if you see him-"

"Yes, yes, I'll call the police. Or something. Bye, Mrs. Pines!"

"Bye Carla!" Stan waved frantically.

Ford thought fast. There was some rather incriminating evidence hidden away under Stan’s bed, but maybe-

“Grauntie Mabel,” Stan said suddenly, “Ford and I forgot to tell you. We got you a whole bunch of wax yesterday, so you can make your very own wax figure!”

Ford blinked and opened his mouth to say something, but Stan stepped on his foot.

“Ow! I mean, yeah!  So you could- do whatever artists do,” Ford said, shifting his weight off his wounded foot.  “Like, sculpt your feelings away? Make a homage for Mr. Hamilton?”

Mabel’s eyes shone. “My little rascals, that is so thoughtful of you!” She leaned over and ruffled their hair. “That’s a _great_ idea.  Then I’ll have my very own Hamilton!”

“Or someone else.” Ford said quickly.

“You’re right, you’re right, there can only be  _one_ Hamilton that handsome. I know!” She clapped her hands. “Bring me that wax, and I’ll get the tools. I’ve got the perfect plan!”

* * *

They brought the wax down to the Shack’s spare room, the one with a fireplace that was mostly used as an employee break room.  Mabel had already set up her tools, and she shooed them out as soon as they brought the wax.

“Go, go- And no peeking!” she told them. “I want this to be a surprise!  Call me for dinner, though!”

So they left her to her own devices and watched TV in the living room until she got hungry.  Then she made them dinner, ate with them, and went straight back to the spare room. They could hear her hammering and painting and singing away into the night.  When she finally came out, she told them to brush their teeth. She saw them to bed, then went straight back downstairs, no doubt to keep on doing whatever it was she was doing.

“She’s really excited about that sculpture.” Ford said, taking his journal from the nightstand

“No kidding.” Stan pulled the covers up to his chin.  “What do you think she’s making?”

“I don't know. Maybe a giant kitten. With lasers whiskers or something.” Ford shrugged, scribbling his notes about the wax figures.  

“That would be cool!”

“Yeah, I guess. I'm just hoping it isn't a person that will be sitting in the living room, staring at us through the whole summer.”

Eventually Stan fell asleep. Ford, however, remained awake.  

He’d made a couple of sketches of Hamilton and the other wax statues they saw, even though he hadn't seen those ones in action. If Hamilton was telling the truth, those wax statues were animate _right now_.  For all he knew, they were prowling the city streets, looking for their lost companion.  

For all he knew, they would find their way to the Shack, and seek revenge.

It took him a while to fall asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Mabel rushed them through breakfast and then hurried them to the Gift Shop, practically dancing on the spot. As soon as Carla and Grenda arrived, Mabel gathered them together and then threw her arms wide.

“Ladies and gremlines, gather ‘round! Today there will be a change of plans! Instead of giving tours today, we will have a debut of a new and utterly amazing attraction!”

“That’s great Mrs. Pines!” Carla says enthusiastically.

Grenda pumped her fists. “WOO! GO MABEL!”

“YEAH!” Mabel shouted. “Carla, spread the message! Grenda, you too! Make some fliers, say it’s gonna be awesome, and, and… Blow everyone’s socks off!”

“What’re we supposed to do?” Ford asked, but Mabel had already darted back through the ‘Employees Only’ door, no doubt to keep working on her statue.  

“Sooo, what do we make the flyer about?” Carla asked, flipping the sign on the door to ‘open’. “Is it a new taxidermy thing, or…?”

Ford looked surly. “As a scientist, I have to say that those taxidermic creations don’t-”

“It’s made outta wax.” Stan said, cutting him off.  He shrugged. “That’s all I know. She’s been working on it since yesterday.”

“Mabel is an artistic genius!” Grenda said, taking out her notepad. Then she whispered. “Mabel give me wisdom.”

Stan glanced at Ford. “Ooookay.”

“Just add words like ‘amazing’ and ‘incredible’.” Carla suggested, as Grenda sketched out ideas for a flier.  

“Got it!”

“Oh!” Stan said. “Gracie, add in ‘free pizza’ on that bad boy! That’ll get a crowd going!”

“Got it! Also, it’s ‘Grenda’!”

“Don’t forget the question mark logo.” Ford put in.  

The four of them continued working on the flier until the first tourists began trickling in.

* * *

A few hours later, Mabel popped her head into the gift shop and called over the twins.

The break room was a mess. Bits of wax and mounds of glitter covered the floor. In the middle of the space were what looked like two tall, narrow, lumpy statues, each covered by a cloth.

Mabel stood between them, grinning, one hand on each blanket.

“Prepare yourselves to be amazed.” She said, and yanked the blankets off. “SHABAM!”

They gasped.

Mabel had made wax replicas of her niblings. More glittery than the originals, but definitely very accurate representations.

Stan was the first one to step closer, admiring her work. He didn’t like that his wax self still wore glasses, but the rest of it looked really good, right down to his freckles! “Grauntie Mabel, this is amazing! You _are_ an artistic genius!”

“I know, right? Arts and crafts master!” Mabel waved an arm. “That’s why I always have this glue gun attached to my arm!”

“It’s great.” Ford said, approaching his wax self as well. Mabel really had done an amazing job making it, but the realism made him uneasy. Especially after seeing a wax figure come to life and try to kill them.

“You look so handsome there, me.” Stan says, lightly bumping his statue on the chin.

Ford raises an eyebrow. “Just you look handsome?  We have the same face, you know.”

“But it looks better on me, Poindexter.” Stan put his arm around wax Stan’s shoulder and grinned.

Ford rolled his eyes.

"You're both equally adorable. Thanks for being my inspiration." Mabel pulled them closer for a hug and lifted them off the floor, half-strangling them. "But now it's show time! I'm gonna need the original ones for the exposition too!"

"Alright, but-" Ford gasped.

"Let go or you won't have the originals anymore!" Stan choked, tapping her arm.

"Oh, whoops!”  She let them go.  

"With hugs like that, I bet you would give the best chokehold." Stan said, actually impressed.

Mabel laughed. “Get ready, you two - It’s showtime!”

* * *

Normally, it was mostly tourists who visited the Shack. Thanks to Grenda’s flyers, however, practically half the town had shown up for the “Great Unveiling of the Eighth Wonder of the World”.  They’d set up a stage outside the Shack with several rows of folding chairs, and charged people an admissions fee at a booth manned by Carla.

The townsfolk and tourists gathered in the seating area, staring with interest at four lumpy figures covered in cloth.  

Mabel, fresh and pressed in her Ms. Mystery suit, walked onto the stage and tapped the microphone.

"You all know me, folks,” she started.  “Local sweetheart, Mrs. Mystery! And you all know as well that I always bring the good people of this town novelties and befuddlements, the likes of which the world, has never known. And this time I present... My grand nephews!"

Mabel walks up to the figures, removing the covers all at once.  Under the cloth were four boys, two identical pairs of twins. The real Stan and Ford stood beside their wax doubles, perfectly still, and the crowd gasped and laughed, trying to figure out which twins were real or wax.

"I made those sculptures with my own two hands! Well, just two of them. But the real ones do share my genes, so no wonder they're so cute already!"

The real Stan and Ford suddenly jumped away from the statues, doing jazz hands.  

"Twiiins!"

The crowd went wild with cheers and applause. Carla and Grenda did, too, since it was their first time seeing the statues.  

The twins went over to stand by Mabel. Stan basked in the attention, and even Ford was smiling, although his hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

Mabel proudly ruffles their hair, then turns back to the microphone.  “I will now take questions!"

Chiu stood up in the crowd, waving forks taped to her fingers. "Old Lady Chiu, local kook. Are the wax figures alive and, follow-up question, when does the wax-man upspring break out?"

Stan and Ford glanced at each other, both thinking of Hamilton.

Mabel laughed. "I won't worry about that. And besides, look at these two!”  She gestured towards the wax twins. “Even if they were alive, do you think they would do anything bad?"

_You mean aside from stealing a wax statue and the murdering said statue?_   Ford thought.

"Next question!" Stan interrupted, pointing at another raised hand.

Toby Determined stood up, still wore his fedora that had a note reading “hat” stuck in the band, and his painfully out-of-fashion high-waisted pants. He had a notepad in one hand and a turkey baster in the other. “Toby Determined, reporter-in-training,” he announced. He pointed at Mabel’s banner.  “Do you really think this constitutes a wonder of the world?"

"Of course! My niblings are the cutest!" Mabel answered proudly.  

"Why are you using a turkey baster as a microphone?" Ford asked.  Stan and the rest of the crowd laughed, and Toby turned pink and sat back down.

Mabel moved on to the next question.  

"Thomas Thompson, a real reporter." An adult stood up, glancing towards Toby with slight concern. He presented one of Grenda’s flyers. "Your flyers promised free pizza with admission to this event. Is this true?"

"What?" Mabel squinted to read the flyer. "I didn't-"

Stan cut in. "That was a typo!  Good night, everyone!" He ran from the stage, with Ford close behind.  

Grenda and Carla looked at each other guiltily.

The crowd started to leave, some booing, others just plain sad. A guy with a shirt reading ‘free pizza’ looked especially disappointed.  Dan, who had come as well, looked just plain angry.

"Uh, yeah, good night!" Mabel dug around her suit, pulled out a glitter bomb and threw it on the stage.  She fled under an explosion of glitter.

Grenda grabbed the money from the admission booth, then she and Carla ran for the Gift Shop.

* * *

Once everyone was inside, Mabel shut the door, grabbed the twins’ shirts and held them in the air like kittens. “Why do I feel like you two have something to do with the ‘free pizza’ thing?” She said, annoyed.

Stan tried to laugh it off. “Well, I, uh, I thought-”

"It did bring some extra attention,” Ford said. It hadn’t been his idea, but he wanted to support his brother.

Mabel frowned at them for a moment, then sighed heavily, setting them down.

"Fine. I'll let that one slip. But you two shouldn't 'promise' things like that unless you check with me first, understood?"

The twins nodded.

"Good."  She turned to Grenda, who had been counting out the money from admissions. “Alright, Grenda, how much did we make today?”

The amount made all five of them whoop with excitement. Apparently, the free pizza thing _had_ brought more attention.  

Mabel was so happy, she took two ten-dollar bills and handed one to each twin. "This is for helping me with the exposition.” She said with a smile.  

“Cool!” Stan quickly shoved the money in his pocket before she could change her mind. "Thanks!"

"Yeah, thank you, Grauntie Mabel!" Ford echoed.

The twins ran off excitedly, already talking about what to do with the cash. Mabel couldn’t help but smile.


	6. Counterparaffin Pt.2

The rest of the day went by with surprising normalcy, and nothing came to kill them in the night this time, either. The following morning found the two twins sitting in the living room, playing a card game and betting with jelly beans.

“Ha!” Stan threw down his cards. “21! In your face, Sixer!”

“What? How!”

Stan just laughed and swept Ford’s jellybeans across the table. He had collected a small mountain of the multicolored treats.

“Boys?”

They turned. Mabel walked into the room, flanked by two policemen - one with tattoos, the second with long hair.  

“We’re innocent!” Stan said automatically.  

"Boys, these are Sheriff Nate Moralez and Deputy Lee Holt." Mabel said, indicating the two men. “And, um. Proceed.”

“We got complaints about two boys doing graffiti around town.” Sheriff Moralez said. “And not the good kind of graffiti, either! I mean vandalism.”

Ford tried to play it cool, but his hands were sweating. He hid them in his jacket. “Okay, so why are you telling us?”

“Look.” Deputy Holt walked up to the table and rested a hand on it. “I know being an almost-teenager is exciting, and you wanna be cool, and you’re ridiculously vulnerable to peer pressure. But vandalism is not cool. We’ve all been there, but you need to tell us the truth.”

Ford almost scoffed. “There’s no peer pressure. We don’t live here, and we don’t have any friends that would make us do that.”

“We were here all day!” Stan added. “Grauntie Mabel, are we going to jail?!”

“No, of course not! It’s just…”

Moralez stepped in. “The complaints we received described two young boys, twins, and they wrote ‘Pines’ across a store’s wall.” He held up a paper.

It was a sketch artist’s depiction of two boys, and even though the drawing was pretty bad, it still somehow resembled Stan and Ford.

“But it wasn’t us!” Stan insisted.  Ford shook his head as well.

Mabel’s face fell and she shook her head. “Boys, I’m not… No, wait, I _am_ mad. I was hoping you guys would just tell the truth.”

“But we didn’t-”

“Playing cards-”

“Jelly beans!”

“Enough! You two are gonna clean that mess and apologize to the store’s owner.”

Their stomachs sank.

* * *

The two policemen had walked them to their police car, put the twins in the back, and were now driving them into town.  

Stan and Ford glanced at each other.

“Are you sure you’re not arresting us?” Stan asked again.

“Nope.” Said Nate.

“You two are kids. We wouldn’t arrest kids, right?” Lee asked, glance at his partner.

Nate shrugged. Lee laughed and punched him in the arm. Nate punched back, grinning.  

“But if you were,” Lee continued, “you would probably would be cuffed. Do we even have handcuffs that small?”

The sheriff pulled out a pair of miniature handcuffs. “Yep, we do.” He said, and stowed them again.

“Are you sure you didn’t do anything?” Ford whispered.

“Of course! I was with you all day!”

“Just asking. You’re very good at getting in trouble.”

“Aw, you’re gonna make me blush.” Stan said, half-sarcastic, half pleased. “But no, I would remember it and gloat about it. At least to you.”

The officers drove them to Tons, the local grocery store. It was small, rustic, and had the word “PINES” painted across the front windows in big sloppy letters.

Nate turned on the radio and leaned back in his seat, while Lee got out and opened the back door to the car.  

“You two are going inside to look for Mr. Richard,” he said, and his voice was suddenly very stern. “Apologize, then take the cleaning supplies he’s going to give you and get to work.  We’ll be right outside if anything happens.”

“Like if we try to get away.” Stan muttered sullenly.  

“You got it. Now march.”

Stan stalked into the store, Ford triling close behind him.

“Man, this suuucks!” Stan groaned. “If I’m gonna get caught, at least let it be for something I actually did!”

“Yeah, who would do that?” Ford asked, back at the windows as he closed the door behind them. “Who would try to frame us? I don’t think we’ve made anyone _that_ angry.”

“Maybe it was because of the fake pizza giveaway at the Shack.”

“You think?”

“Pizza is serious business, man.”

“Alright, let’s assume it was that,” Ford said, stopping by a display of canned beans. “who would want to get revenge for that, and why would they target us? And how could they impersonate us? You saw that sketch - people actually think they saw _us_ , specifically.”

“Um, I think the weird old raisin guy is watching us.”

“What?”

Stan pointed, and Ford followed his gaze. There was an old man stationed at the cash register towards the back of the store. He was tallish, with liverspots and a pair of really old spectacles resting on his long nose. He smiled at them and they walked over.  

“Are you Mr. Richard?” Ford asked.

“Yes, I am. Richard Dalton. Nice to meet you.” The man reaches over the counter, offering a handshake.

“Um-”

“Oh! Dal-Tons!” Stan said, taking the offered hand. “Sweet.”

“Yep! And you two must be Stanley and Stanford Pines, the kids who made that mess in front of my store.”

“We didn’t -” Stan started, but Ford shook his head slightly. “Sorry,” Stan grumbled instead, and his brother repeated the phrase.  

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Dalton said, waving his hand. “I’m not angry at the two of you.  I’ve had much worse a delinquent than you in my shop. I’m not even the one who called the police.”

“So, we’re off the hook?” Stan asked hopefully.

“Well, I’d still want you two to clean it up.” Dalton nodded towards the windows. “I’m too old for this kind of job and didn’t want to push this to my employees. So, since you two are already here…”

“We’ll clean.” Ford said, suppressing a sigh.  

“Thank you.” Dalton smiled and gestured towards a door behind him. “Go down this hallway.  There’s a young man named Jimmy who will give you some cleaning supplies.”

Jimmy was crouched in front of some shelves at the back, restocking tinned tuna. He raised his head when he heard them coming.

“So you two are the famous Pines troublemakers!” He said, sounding surprisingly genial about it. They nodded. “Great. Follow me, I’ve got your cleaning tools for you. I’m Jimmy, by the way.”

“I’m Stan and this is Ford.” Stan said. He took the lead as they followed him to the back of the storage room and then through a door marked ‘Employee’s Only’.

“This is the break room?” Ford asked, stepping into it. He nearly bumped into the small table in the middle. There was just barely enough room to edge around it, with a small counter on one side supporting a bubbling water dispenser. “It looks like a broom closet.”  

Jimmy laughed. “It pretty much _is_ a broom closet. Catch!” He grabbed a couple of sponges, a bucket, and a soap bottle from the counter and tossed them. They caught them, nearly dropping the soap. “Nice! Alright, I gotta finish restocking, but just bring the stuff back here when you’re done. Oh, and there’s a water tap on the side of the store, if you get hot out there."

* * *

The cops were still out there when they got back, this time munching donuts with rock music pouring from the windows.  

Ford turned on the tap, filled the bucket with soapy water, and sloshed his sponge around in it.

“This stinks,” He said. “It’s like the time we had to clean the Sur-Pies store after we stole pies from their sills.”

“Only then we actually _did_ the crime,” Stan said, scowling at the red paint. He started scrubbing. “I don’t get who framed us!”

“If it really was over pizza, then it had to be someone from the ceremony yesterday. Do you remember who was there?”

“Dan, Old Lady Chiu, a big guy with a pizza t-shirt, a tall guy with a big nose and…”

“Tony?”

“Ugh. Toby.”

“Carla set up an admission booth,” Ford remembered suddenly.  “When we’re done here, we’ve gotta go see if she still has the sign-in sheet. We need to check out every culprit on that list!”

“Yeah!” Stan fist pumped and made to dart away.

Ford grabbed his sleeve. “Right after we finish cleaning!”

“Aw.”

It took about an hour to scrub the windows clean. Then they washed out the bucket and sponges, took a drink, and headed back inside to drop off their supplies.

Dalton smiled at them.  “Well done. You two seem like good kids. Don’t waste your time doing things like that in the future, alright?”

The twins gave him pained smiles.  

“I’ll take the supplies back to Jimmy. This is for you, for your service and for taking responsibility.”  Dalton reached under the counter and brought out a loaf of bread wrapped in paper, so fresh the crust still steamed.

“Ooooh,” Ford said, taking it. “Thanks, man!”

“Tell Jimmy we said bye!” Stan said, waving as they left the store. “Pretty sweet gig, guy running his own place, even named the store after himself.” He paused and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Good thing Mr. Richard isn’t Mr. Dick.”

Ford punched his brother’s arm, laughing.  

* * *

Nate and Lee offered to drive them back to the Shack, but the twins said they wanted to walk around town for a while.

“Well, good job today,” Lee said. “We’ll call your grandma and tell her where you are.”

“She’s our grauntie,” Stan corrected. “‘Great’ plus ‘aunt’ equals ‘Grauntie’. It’s math.”

“Pretty sure it’s not.” Ford said, smiling.

They parted ways with the police and headed down the street, away from the Tons store.

“So, how are we gonna find the suspects?” Stan ask, breaking off a piece of bread and handing it over. “We going to ask Carla for the list?”

“I don’t know,” Ford said absently. “I was thinking, and asking her might alert the suspect to our plans. Maybe we-”

_BANG!_

The two of them jumped. The sound had come from the junkyard. They glanced at each other and ran towards it, Stan careful not to drop the bread.  

The gates to the yard were open, as usual, and the place was full of rusted car carcasses and other discarded machines. Old Lady Chiu was rummaging through one of the nearest piles, filling a handcart with random pieces of junk.  

Stan opened his mouth to call out when Ford stopped him. “She’s a suspect,” Ford explained in a whisper.

“Aww, c’mon!  She’s not a suspect! We found baby monsters together!”

“Well…”

“Okay, fine, let’s check it out.” And before Ford could stop him, Stan strode right up to Chiu and shouted “BOO!”

Chiu jumped with a small scream.  

“WHERE WERE YOU YESTERDAY NIGHT?!”

“Stanley!” Ford hissed, running over. “It’s Sherlock Holmes, not good cop/bad cop!”

Chiu looked around wildly. “What? What? What’s happening?”

Stan shrugged. “We’re basically terrorizing townsfolk until we figure out who framed us for vandalism.”

“Eh?”

Ford gave Stan a push. “What he _means_ is, we think someone tried to get us in trouble for the ‘free pizza’ thing that happened at the Shack.”

“Oh.” Chiu crossed her arms. “You mean the ‘free pizza’ thing that _didn’t_ happen.”

Ford coughed awkwardly.

Stan nodded. “Yeah. Were you upset about that? Enough to, perhaps… Plot revenge?”

“I wouldn’t do something like that!” Chiu said. Then she paused. “Well, not on two kids. That eagle that keeps stealing my trinkets will feel my fury someday!” She shook her fist at the sky.

“But you just said you were upset.”

“Yes, but that's because-”

Her stomach growled loudly. She put a hand over her belly, blushing.

“Here,” Stan said immediately, handing over the loaf of bread. “Sorry Ford suspected you.”

“Hey!”

Chiu took it, gratitude shining in her eyes. “Thanks, boys.”

* * *

They decided to try Dan next. They found him at a biker joint named Skull Fracture. They could see his bright red hair through the window, but there was a very large bouncer out front, covered in muscles and tattoos. The rowdy tavern behind him didn’t seem for the weak of heart, either.

“Whoa,” Stan said, impressed. “I love it already! Let’s go!”

Ford eyed the bouncer. “I don’t think we gonna get in that easily.”

“What? We’re pretty tough guys.” Stan flexed his arms. “At least _I_ am. Just stay behind me.”

Ford groans. “Thanks, but I meant-”

“We don’t serve miners.”

The rough voice startled them and they looked over. The bouncer was handing an ID card back to a man in a bright yellow one-piece.  

The man scowled and shook his pickaxe. “Daaaang-nabbit!” He said, and spat on the floor before walking away.

Stan squinted. “So we need IDs, huh? I have just the thing!” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out two driver’s licenses - obviously fake and done in crayon. Even the names sounded phony: Stetson Pinefield and Hal Forrester. The pictures of him and Ford were taped onto it. Stan grinned and held one out to Ford. “Knew those would come in handy. You’re welcome.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Why do the pictures have googly eyes?”

Stan shrugged and shook them, laughing when the eyes went crazy.  

“Uh-huh. Stan, I don’t think these are legal.”

“I don’t think those are legal.” Ford squints.

“Is the police nearby?”

“No?”

“When there’s no cops around, anything’s legal!” He turned and marched confidently towards the bouncer. Ford followed.  

The bouncer glanced down at them.  

“Hey man, how’s hanging?” Stan gave the bouncer a firm but friendly punch in the arm. The bouncer flared pierced nostrils, unamused. Stan cleared his throat and handed him the IDs. “So yeah!  We’re just a couple of small adults. Nothing illegal here!”

The bouncer looks at their IDs, which stated that they were respectively 46 and 45. Then he looked back at the twins.

Ford swallowed nervously.

The bouncer shrugged. “Works for me.” He handed them back their IDs and stepped aside, opening the tavern door for them.

Stan grinned, grabbed Ford’s arm, and ran inside.  

The tavern was dark, with neon signs just barely illuminating the place. The colors gave the place an interesting mood. Men sat everywhere, sitting at the bar downing their drinks, gathering around the billiard table, or just picking fights with each other for no reason. A man fell to the floor right in front of the twins as they entered, clearly unconscious.

“I like this place,” Stan said, hands on his hips. “Look, there he is!”

He jumped casually over the (hopefully not dead) guy and headed across the room towards Dan, who was messing with an arm wrestling machine. Ford followed, careful not to make eye contact with the other patrons.

“Daniel!” Stan said loudly.  “Where were you yesterday?”

“Can you stop that?” Ford whispered, peeking over his shoulder at another fight breaking out nearby.

“Hey, we need to blend in!”

Dan finally noticed them. “What are you two doing here?!” he growled. “That’s no place for kids!”

“Alright, Mr. Adult,” Ford retorted. They all knew full well Dan wasn’t in here legally, either.  Dan glared at him and turned his attention back to the machine. Ford cleared his throat. “We just wanted to know…”

Stan leaned casually against the machine, trying to act tough. “Someone has tried to do us dirty. Maybe we touched a nerve with that free pizza deal, huh, Dan? Get you a little steamed?”

Dan’s grip on the machine tightened. “What? You think I’d do something to you two? Over pizza? No! You two are kids and also my boss’ relatives!” The machine was starting to steam and rattle. “The only thing I’m MAD about is YOU stealing my ax!” With a roar, he ripped the mechanical arm right off the mannequin.

Ford gaped at him. “Uh, wow.”

“Wait, wait, hold up,” Stan said, holding up his hands. “We’ve already been accused of ONE crime today, which we also didn’t do. And we didn’t take your ax!”  

Ford winced. “Actually…”

Dan glared at him. “Well at least your _brother_ didn’t take it.”

“I-I was gonna give it back!” Ford protested, hands trembling slightly. After that display of brute strength, he did not want to make Dan angry. “I did lose it- But then I found it again! I was gonna give it back, but… Some stuff came up and I couldn’t meet you today! That’s it! I was gonna give it back!”

“Good!” Dan barked. “It's my favorite ax. Perfect for the manly hand. MANLY HAND!” Still holding the disembodied arm, he started punching the mechanical dummy it belonged to.

Dan’s friend, Tyler, ran up, cheering as Dan smashed the arm. “Git ‘im, git ‘im!”

Dan took the Pitt Cola Tyler was offering and gulped it down, wiping his face.

Tyler caught sight of the twins. “What are you two doing here?” He asked. “You two are too adorable to be in a place like that.”

“We are not adorable!” Stan replied angrily. “C’mon, Ford, let’s try somewhere else.”

* * *

As they walked around town, Stan and Ford managed to reconstruct a list of everyone who had come to the Shack’s massive pizza fail. Ford was pretty sure they hadn’t left anyone out, and with the list in hand, they began their search.

Pizza Guy was first. He was in the pizzeria, enjoying a giant pizza with a mountain of toppings. They figured he looked too satisfied with his pizza to hold a grudge over it.

Next, they tried a Random Tall Guy. They found him at home (basically Stan spied on him through an open window), but when they rang the doorbell to interrogate him, they realized he had a cast on both arms. So he probably hadn’t exacted nefarious vengeance.  

On they went down the list, while the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, until they were left with only one suspect.  

“This should be it!” Ford exclaimed, after they’d talked it through. “There’s no one else it could be - and it all adds up!  I can’t believe we didn’t realize it sooner!”

Stan shook his head. “Can’t believe that's our guy.”

They practically ran back to Main Street, coming to a stop right outside Toby’s Gravity Falls Gossiper. It was an old run-down building, and the darkening sky cast eerie shadows over its face.  But the lights were on inside, glowing brightly on the street.

Stan crouched on the left side of the front door, Ford on the right. They could hear Toby typing and grumbling to himself somewhere inside.

“Can I be a bad cop this time?” Stan asks.

Ford rolled his eyes. “Sure. On three.” He raised his fingers.  “One… Two...THREE!”

 _BANG!_ Stan kicked the door open and barrel rolled inside, coming up in a kneeling position with his fingers pointing in random directions.

“Nobody move! This is a raid!” He shouted.

Toby fell off his chair in fear. “What is this?? Some kind of raid?”

Ford stepped in. “Toby Determined, you have been found guilty of trying to incriminate us of vandalizing the Tons grocery store!” He declared.

“Mr. Dalton is very nice and didn’t deserve that!” Stan added. “And yes, you have the right to remain impressed with our awesome detective work!”

The twins high-sixed.

“Gobbling goose feathers!” Toby whined. “I don’t understand!”

Ford felt decidedly smug. He smoothed his jacket. “Allow me to explain:” He started. “You were hoping that Grauntie Mabel's new attraction would be the story that saved your failing newspaper. But when the show was a flop, you decided to go out and make your own headline!”

“By incriminating us!” Stan grabbed Toby by the collar of his shirt. “Toby Determined, you’re yesterday’s news!”

Toby stood up. “Boy, your little knees must be sore… From jumping to conclusions!” He does a little dance, slipping from Stan’s grip. “Hachacha! I had nothing to do with that crime!”

Ford grinned. “I knew I- Wait, what? Come again?”

“But you were there yesterday!” Stan said. “At the grocery store! People saw the criminal and they were short and you’re the only one…”

Toby went over to a TV in the corner and inserted a VHS tape. He fast-forwarded for a moment, then paused.  The screen showed Toby working hard at his desk, writing, and the time stamp in the corner confirmed that he was there just minutes before the vandalism had occurred.

Ford frowned. “Well, you could’ve just left to do the crime, then come back.”

Toby sighed, then hit the fast-forward button. As the time stamp clicked past minute after minute, Toby took a photo of a girl out of his pocket and started kissing it. The twins backed away, grossed out.  

“See?” Toby said.

Ford sighed. “Alright, time stamp confirms it. Toby, you’re off the hook.”

“Hooray!” Toby cheered. “Boy, I'd be pretty embarrassed if I was you two!”

Behind him, on the screen, Toby began making very wet kissing noises.

“Finally,” Screen-Toby said. “we can be alone, picture of Shandra Jimenez!”

* * *

The twins return to the shack, tired and without answers.

It was late by the time they reach the place. Mabel had already made dinner. It actually looked edible this time, but the three of them ate dinner in silence. Stan and Ford were discouraged from their fruitless search for the real suspect, and Mabel was still being all “parental” at them. She even left the table first, washing her plate and leaving the room without a word. Her disappointment stung worse than being practically arrested.  

Stan poked at his food. “I feel terrible.” He mumbled. “It’s worse than Ma trying to make us feel guilty!”

“I know.” Ford had barely touched his own food, he just didn’t feel hungry. “All that searching was pointless. It _had_ to be Toby, but it wasn’t! Who else could’ve been skilled enough to impersonate-”

Suddenly he gasped and dropped his fork.

“Ford?”

“Stan, do you think…?”

“Think what?”

Ford didn’t answer, just leapt from the table and dashed outside. Stan hurried to follow.  Ford ran around the Shack to the Museum and practically tore open the door. Mabel’s Wax Stan and Wax Ford stood in the middle of the room, unmoved.  

“Do you think Hamilton still alive in them or something?” Stan asks.

Ford walked around them, studying them intently. The statues stayed perfectly still, but as Ford drew closer, he noticed flecks of red paint on their hands.  

“I know who did it.” Ford said quietly. “Stan, look!”  He reached into his wax counterpart’s back pocket and pulled out a brush, its bristles stained red, a Tons price sticker still stuck to the handle!

“Congratulations, my two amateur sleuths.”

Before either of them could react, Wax Ford turned and grabbed Ford by the neck. Ford choked and smacked him with the brush, but it had no effect.

“Ford!” Stan started forward, but Wax Stan blocked his path.  

“I don’t think-”

“OUTTA THE WAY!” Stan punched him in the stomach. He made a shiny dent, but otherwise, the wax statue was unaffected. “No fair!” Stan shouted. “How are you even still alive?! We melted you!”

“We thought we were done for, too,” Wax Stan said, curling his lip. “But somehow our curse carried on to these stupid bodies.”

“You destroyed our lives!” Wax Ford barked, tightening his grip around the real one’s neck. “Now we’re gonna destroy yours!”

“Stanley…” Ford choked out. He was trying to pry the fingers from his throat with one hand.  With the other, he was pointing at something behind Stan.

Stan looked back.

Electric candles were positioned around a pumpkin-themed monstrosity, creating a spooky atmosphere - and generating quite a bit of heat.

“That’s it!” Stan shouted. “We can melt them with again with hotty melty things!”

Stan ran for them, his wax counterpart at his heels. He reached them just as Wax Stan made a grab for his shirt. Stan scooped up a candle in each hand and spun. The hot glass bulbs cut into the wax, melting off a chunk of his arm. Wax Stan let go with a yell, holding his dripping arm.  

“HERE!” Stan threw one of the candles at Ford.  

Ford caught it and, faster than Wax Ford could react, stabbed his replica in the ribs with it.  Wax Ford let him go with a grunt, hands over his side, and Ford staggered away.

Stan ran up to him and they stood back-to-back, brandishing their candles like swords.

“Anyone move and we’ll turn you into candles!” Ford threatened.

“ _Decorative_ candles!” Stan finished.

Wax Stan snarled, his lips curling in a wicked smile. “You think you can fight us?”

“What you gonna tell your grauntie when you’re done with us?” Wax Ford added smugly.

Ford hesitated.

Stan snarled back. “She’s already mad at us, so we have nothing to lose!” He lunged for his wax copy.  As Wax Stan raised his good arm to punch, Stan fell to his knees and skidded past, holding out the candle so he sliced Wax Stan in half at the waist.

“AAAH!”  Wax Stan’s legs collapsed, twitching, and his torso hit the floor, still screaming.

“Do I gotta do everything by myself?!” Wax Ford demanded. He ran to one of the taxidermied animals, snapped the horn off the Beavercorn and turned to strike Stan as he was getting up.

Ford stepped in and knocked the horn away with his candle, engaging his opponent. The two parried struck, swinging their weapons like swords, thrusting at each other’s heads, chests, and stomachs.  

“Go Ford!” Stan cheered. “Get ‘im, get- HEY!”  

Wax Stan was trying to drag himself away. Stan melted off the rest of his left arm before he could reach anything. He pinned Wax Stan down and held the candle a few inches from his face.

“Take that, creepy zombie wax thing! One more creepy move and Mabel’s gonna have a lot of decorative candles!”

“Help me!” Wax Stan cried out.  

Wax Ford looks over, distracted, and Ford took his chance, slicing his counterpart in half.  Ford screamed and went down, lashing out with the horn, but the arc of Ford’s candle sliced his right arm clean off.  

“What is it with you and hot melty things?!” Wax Ford demanded. “Take THAT!”  

Before Ford could react, Wax Ford’s legs managed one final kick that smacked the candle out of Ford’s grip.  

Stan started to move towards him, but Wax Stan shoved at his knees, and Stan slipped and went down in a puddle of still-warm wax.  Wax Ford reached for Wax Stan’s hand, pulled himself over, and the two of them melted together from shoulder to waist where they were missing their arms.  

Stan screamed and leaped back as Wax Stan/Ford rose, standing on their hands. Then, using their slightly sticky wax palms, zoomed straight up the wall and into a vent, leaving a trail of melted wax behind.

Stan and Ford stared after them.

“Well,” Stan said finally. “that was super creepy.”

“Agreed.”  

Suddenly the door to the Museum burst open and Mabel rushed in.

“What’s happening here?! Who’s there?!” Mabel shouted, brandishing a grappling hook.  “Nobody move! I’ve got- Oh my pink-frosted cupcakes…”

The room was in chaos. The fight had been short, but several displays had been knocked over, the Beavercorn was now back to being a regular beaver, and there were puddles of wax on the floor. Not to mention the severed limbs of Wax Stan and Wax Ford.

The real twins glanced at each other, thinking furiously. What excuse could they come up with to explain _this?_

“We’re sorry!” Ford started nervously. “We-”

“It was us who stole the Alexander Hamilton statue,” Stan blurted, dropping his candle. “We felt bad and we melted him down to hide it and we gave you the wax but then we felt even worse when you made the statues out of it!”

“We’re also sorry for the Tons store!” Ford added. “It wasn’t really us but it was still sort of our fault!”

“Please don’t be even more mad at us!” Stan pleaded.

Mabel slowly lowered the grappling hook. With her free hand, she rubbed at her temple. She was silent for a long moment.  

“I am mad at you two for all of this,” She said at last. “but I’m also glad you two told me the truth. And..." She looks around at the chunks of wax. "I guess there's nothing else to be done about all this."

The twins looked away, ashamed.

"Oh, and hey, Sheriff Moralez called. He told me you two were very mature in cleaning the Tons store." Mabel knelt down and opened her arms. "I'm proud of you two."

They hesitated. Was she really going to forgive them so easily?

"Come on!" Mabel beckoned. "Hug-a-palooza 2000!"

Stan broke first and ran towards her, practically face-planting himself in her shoulder. Ford was close behind, and they both hugged Mabel as hard as they could. They hated making her mad at them, even more than they hated being framed for a crime. It was definitely worth fighting evil doppelgangers any day just to have her hug them again. They soaked in the feeling of warmth and love.  

"I'm still gonna need you two to clean this place for me tomorrow, though." Mabel told them.

They groaned.

**WKHB'UH VWLOO LQ WKH YHQWV!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character Richard Dalton was made by Absolute Rift on fanfiction.net, he's from his fic Gravity Falls: Once More! Rift, when you see this, hope you don't mind I borrowed him gdfhg But y'all should read his fic!!


	7. Stan By Me Pt. 1

“And for today’s final trick…”

Mabel pulled out a bag with a question mark stitched on it, gesturing grandly.

“... We have the amazing Sack of Mysteries! When you put your money in, you’ll be mysteriously filled with the most wonderful feeling!”

The people agreed eagerly that that sounded like a good idea. Everyone took out their wallets and put some money into the Sack.  

“What am I supposed to be feeling?” One of the tourists asked.

“The fuzzy warm feeling of doing charity!” Mabel answered.

The crowd, easily impressed, _oooh_ ’d and _ahhh_ ’d.

Another tourist raised their hand. “Uh, what charity is this for?”

“And that’s all for today, folks!” Mabel tucked in the Sack under her arm and, in a burst of confetti, disappeared into the Shack. 

* * *

"The tiger was badly injured in the explosion, but we repaired him… With a fist!"

Stan and Ford sat in the living room, sharing the armchair. They were watching a show about Tiger Fist, a tiger with a human arm surgically attached to its side. Dan had joined them, leaning against the T-Rex skull that served as a side table.  

“Thanks for having me over, guys!  Didn’t wanna miss Tiger Fist!” Dan raised his own fists for emphasis.

Ford gave a nervous chuckle. “Well, I guess that’s the least I can do after almost losing your ax.”

“And what’s better than a tiger that can punch?” Stan added, gesturing at the TV. “Nothing, I say! Well, maybe a big bad monster truck rally! But this is awesome too.”

On screen, the tiger punched itself. All three boys cheered.

"Woo! That tiger is a hero!" Stan shouted.

The screen cut to a title card, and a narrator’s voice said: " _Tiger Fist! … Will return after these messages._ "

The image changed to show a commercial.  Soft music played and two hands released a bunch of white doves against a cloudless sky.  

Dan perked up. "Look!  It's Lil' Buddy's commercial! I even have his pin!" He pointed to his shirt, where the enamel pin of a doughy boy’s face was attached to his collar.

The TV screen changed to show a mountain sunrise, and a narrator’s voice began speaking. "Are you completely miserable?"

The commercial cut to a man sitting on his bed, crying desperately. "Yes!" The man sobbed.

The narrator continued.  "Then you need to meet… _Buddy_."

"Who's Buddy?" Stan asked.

"And what makes him so special?" Ford inquired.

" _He's a psychic_." The narrator said.

Both twins raised an eyebrow.

But the commercial wasn’t over. It cut to a clip of Mabel standing outside, drinking a jug of glitter glue while working on taxidermy. The word “FRAUD” was stamped across the image in big red letters.  

"So don't waste your time with the so-called ‘woman of mystery’!" The narrator said scornfully.  “Learn about tomorrow TONIGHT at Li’l Bud’s Tent of Telepathy!“

“We know this place is a scam, but sheesh!” Stan snapped. “And how did he even get that footage?”

“Plus that was totally an ad hominem argument that had nothing to do with the validity of psychic phenomena.” Ford said. “That guy’s probably just another fake.”

“WHAT?!” Dan shouted. He jabbed repeatedly at his pin. “It’s all real! I’ve been there!”  

Ford shrugged. "Sorry, but our mom is also a psychic. No offense to her, obviously, but a very fake one. We can recognize another so-called psychic right away.”

“It does look like a neat show, though.” Stan mused, glancing at the TV.

"Stanley and Stanford Pines!"

The three of them looked over as Mabel walked in, taking off her jacket and hanging it on a hook.

“Don't get too curious-y!” She growled. “Buddy’s grandpa, Gideon Gleeful, controls the Tent of Telepathy. Ever since I met him, I've had nothing but trouble!”

"We should go check out that circus!" Stan said immediately.

"No!" Mabel snapped. "I don't want you two meddling with them! No one that lives under my roof is allowed under that Gideon’s roof!"

She turned and stomped down the hall, grumbling under her breath.  

Stan gave Ford a sly look. "Do tents have roofs?"

"I think we found our loophole." Ford said, smiling. "It’s not like a quick look is gonna hurt anyone, right?  Dan, can you take us there?"

Dan grinned and nodded.

"So come down soon, folks," the narrator spoke up again. "Buddy is expecting you."

* * *

 

Night came quickly, sprinkling the sky with stars. Dan took his pick-up truck and drove the twins to the Tent of Telepathy.

The tent was about as big as the library, with a wooden five-pointed star on top. A crowd was gathered in front, and more people were streaming towards the entrance as they drove up, coming on foot or by car. Dan parked and they joined the crowd, trying not to get stepped on.  

A man stood at the entrance, collecting money in a sack. His hair was a pristine white, save for a few gray roots. Part of his hair was combed up in an extremely tall pompadour, the rest of it tied in a low ponytail tied with a light blue ribbon. A matching light blue shirt and black pants completed the theme, along with a pair of pure white cowboy boots. Even though the man had to be in his sixties, he looked like disturbingly like a very large baby, right down to his round face sprinkled with freckles.

Dan leaned down so the twins could hear him. “That’s Big Gideon,” he told them. “He owns the Tent of Telepathy. And a used cars business. I got my truck from him!”

Big Gideon was gesturing grandly towards the sack. "Step right up there, folks! Put your money in Buddy's psychic sack!"

Stan and Ford walked right past, but Dan paused to shove a handful of money in before entering the tent.

The inside was set up like a theater, with wooden benches facing a polished stage hung with baby blue curtains. Speakers bracketed the stage and a grand piano sat to one side. People talked and glanced eagerly at the curtains, waiting for whatever it was to begin.  

Stan grimaced as they took their seats. "This is like a bizarro version of the Mystery Shack.  What a joke! They don’t have anything as awesome as the Sascrotch!”

“You don’t see me complaining.” Ford muttered.

Music suddenly sounded through the speakers, and the crowd hushed in excited anticipation. Spotlights blazed to life from the tent’s ceiling, zipping around the crowd and finally focusing on the curtains. A shadow approached from behind the blue fabric, growing larger as it approached. The whole tent seemed to quake with each step -

\- and then the curtains parted, revealing a small boy in a pink suit. He was younger than the twins, had a brown pompadour streaked with white, and a white cape fastened at the front with an aquamarine bolo tie.

“Hey!” Stan said, pointing at the boy and then at Dan’s pin. “That’s the guy, isn’t it? That’s-”

"Hello, America!” The boy said, his voice ringing over the crowd. “My name is Lil' Buddy!"

The crowd cheered wildly, and Dan along with them. The twins frowned.

"Wow, a child. How terrifying." Stan mocked.

"Can't believe that's Grauntie Mabel’s competition." Ford said. “He’s so… Small.”

Dan glared at them. “He’s tall for a 10 years-old! It’s not like you two are _that_ tall, either!”

“Hey! Just ‘cuz you’re a giant lumbermountain-”

"Ladies and gentlemen," Buddy proceeded. "it is such a gift to have you here tonight! _Such_ a gift." He smiled sweetly. "I have a prediction! I predict you will soon all say ‘aaaw’!"  

Buddy turned away for a moment, then turned back, striking a truly adorable pose. The crowd _aaaw_ ’d.  

Stan and Ford gagged.

"Hit it, grandpa!" Bud pointed at Gideon, who had taken a seat in front of the piano. As Gideon played, Bud took off his cape and threw it at the crowd.  A woman caught it and other women immediately pounced on her, fighting over the cape. Stan stood on his seat for a better look at the fight.

Bud began to sing, snapping his fingers in time. " _Oh, I can see, what others can't see!_ / _It ain't some sideshow trick,it's innate ability!_ " He slid his hands over his face and wiggled his fingers. " _Where others are blind, I am futurely inclined!_ / _And you too could see, if you was widdle ol' me!_ "  He giggled and put one hand to his chest, gesturing with his other arm.  “Come on, everybody, rise up! I want y'all to keep it going!"

The crowd had clapping and bopping their heads to the rhythm. At Bud’s signal, they all stood up - even Stan and Ford!

“Hey!” Ford said, looking down at himself. "Wha? How did he-?"

Stan looked equally confused. "Maybe that song is really kinda catchy?"

"Keep it going!" Bud twirled his finger, then pointed at an older woman in the front row, two cats mewling in her lap. " _You wish your son would call you more!_ "

"I'm leaving everything to my cats!" she said, shaking her fist. Her cats hissed.

Bud hopped off the stage and sauntered toward Dan. He winked, matching the pin of himself on Dan’s shirt.  " _I sense that you've been here before!_ "

"How did you know?!" Dan exclaimed, oblivious.

"Oh, come on!" Stan grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Bud turned to the twins, still singing. " _I'll read your minds if I can..._ " He tapped the side of his own head. " _Something tells me you're both named Stan!_ "

He turned and headed back for the stage, leaving both boys staring after him in shock.  Dan’s pin was one thing, but their names - how _did_ he know?!

Buddy had reached the center of the stage. He turned on his heel, spreading his arms wide.  " _So welcome all ye to the Tent of Telepathy! And thanks for visiting... Widdle ol' meeee!_ " A neon pink sign dropped behind him and pink fireworks burst around the sign.  He kicked his feet and dropped to one knee, striking a pose amidst the rose-pink sparks.

The crowd went wild.

Buddy got to his feet, panting, while Gideon smiled at him from the piano. The kid pulled a bottle of water from inside his jacket, sipped at it, and waved at the crowd. “Thank you!” He called. “You people are the real miracles!"

The crowd gradually dispersed (very gradually, since lots of people were eager to get Bud’s autograph).  Stan and Ford finally made it out of the tent by following Dan, who bulldozed a path for them through the crowd.  

"Man, that kid is an even bigger fraud than our Ma!” Stan said.  “We love her, of course, but damn! All those fireworks and shit. What a circus! The only things that saves this show is his dance moves. And his hair. His hair was pretty sweet too. Not as freaky as Gideon’s. Pompadours can be cool, but he makes it looks like he is growing another head or something!”

Ford laughed. "You're too easily impressed.” He teased, and Stan punched him on the arm.

Dan grunted, less than pleased with Stan’s assessment. "So, you two want a ride home?" He grumbled.

"Nah, we're cool." Stan answered. "The Shack is right over there. Thanks for bringing us here though. You’re off the hook.” He made finger guns at Dan, who returned the gesture before getting into his car.

They waved as Dan drove away. The two boys started down the road, still talking about the show.

From the tent, Gideon watched them go.  

After a moment, Gideon drew back and glanced to the side. Buddy was sitting on a bench, finishing the rest of his water bottle. Gideon suddenly reached out and yanked him closer, making the boy jump in surprise.  

“Grandpa-?”

“Look, boy!” He pointed a thick, venmous finger at the twin’s backs. “Those are Mabel’s nephews.  And I have a plan for them. I need _you_ to go talk to them!"

"What am I gonna say?" Buddy asked, wiping his cheek on the sleeve of his suit.

Gideon slapped his hand away. "Don't do that, it's gonna ruin your suit! And just be nice! Make friends with them." Gideon smiled, a perfect, almost friendly smile that did not reach his eyes. "Work those acting skills, boy!" He pushed him outside the tent after the twins.

Buddy ran across the parking lot, trying to catch up to the twins. “Wait, wait!” He called - and nearly bumped into Ford’s back.  

“Hey- Buddy?” Ford blinked, stepping back.

“Howdy,” Buddy panted. “I… I wanted to thank you two for… Coming to the show!"

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

Stan shrugged. “Beat sitting around watching TV.”

_Make friends with them._

Bud smiled. "That was your first time here, I know, so I'm sorry if I freaked you two out with my psychic powers. That’s just what I do!"  Bud winked playfully. The twin did not seem amused.

Stan frowned at him. "Look, I don't know how you found out our names, but I don't like it!  Knock it off, alright?”

"But I like your, um- Your band-aid!" Buddy said, pointing to Stan’s face. Immediately, Bud cringed - that was the weakest compliment he’d ever said - but to his relief, Stan seemed nicely surprised at the comment.

“Yup,” Stan said, puffing out his chest.  “I'll have you know I got this wound by fighting the monster in the Gravity Falls Lake! A real monster! Although I bet you’d know that right?  Since you’ve got _psychic powers_ , I bet you even know what color underwear I’m wearing right now!”

“Did you say mon- underwear?” Bud repeated. “ _Ew!_ ”

Stan laughed.

"I mean- I just don't wanna scare everyone away by using my powers, you know?" Buddy said.

"Stanley, enough." Ford grabbed his brother by the arm and started dragging him away. "Let's just go."

"No, wait!" Buddy quickly stepped in front of them. “I just… I thought you two looked cool. I wanted to maybe invite you to come play with me. I have a dressing room!” He hurried to add, when the boys looked unimpressed. “And my house is really nice!  And I have a big toy car collection!”

Stan looked intrigued. “How big a car collection?”

“Big! Hundreds! And we have ice cream!”

“Sold!” Stan said, throwing an arm around Bud’s shoulders. “What d’ you say to tomorrow at lunch? Also ice cream for lunch? We could eat ice cream sandwiches! And I’m keeping the ice cream if it doesn’t work out!”

Bud opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly laughter boomed from behind them and Stan stepped quickly back.

“Well, sounds like you three have hit it right off,” Gideon said, smiling as he rested a hand on Bud’s head.  “We’ll pick you up around 1, then. We know where the Mystery Shack is, after all!”

“Uh, sure.” Ford said.  

Stan nodded. “See you then.”

Gideon and Bud stood there until the twins disappeared into the dark.

“Need some improvement, but well done.” Gideon said, patting his grandson’s head.  

Buddy sighed quietly.

* * *

The next day, Ford sat at the den table, reading a book and taking notes. Suddenly a shout rang through the Shack.  

“Ford, look!”

Stan raced into the living room. “I successfully put a whole box of bandaids on my face!” He pointed. He had indeed completely covered his face in band-aids - right down to his eyelids!  “BLINK! Ow. My skin is being stretched beyond imagination. But it makes me look tough, doesn’t it?”

“It makes you look like you had a terrible accident.” Ford answered drily. “And besides, how do you plan on taking those off?”

“Easy!” Stan grabbed a random band-aid and yanked it off. He shrieked in pain, then laughed. “I hope I get to keep my eyebrows!”

 _Ding-dong_.

“Hey, uh, can you…?” Stan nodded towards the door, trying to remove the rest of the band-aids. “It must be Buddy.”

“Sure.” Ford put down his book, stood up, then paused. “But I’m gonna tell you: I don’t like this. I still don’t like them, and anyway, doing this isn’t like… Using Buddy?”

Stan waved his hand. “Nooo, of course not! He invited us! And he agreed we could have ice cream regardless! That’s on him if it counts as being used.”

The doorbell rang again. Mabel’s voice called from the kitchen: “Don’t worry, kids, I got it!”

“ACK, NO, WAIT, GRAUNTIE MABEL I GOT IT!”  Stan ran for the door, ripping band-aids off his face as he went, but he was too late.

Mabel reached the door first. She opened it to find the big pompadour himself standing on the porch.

“Howdy!” Gideon said, smiling wildly.  

Mabel reeled back with a shout. “What are YOU doing here!?”

“Why, Mabel! Warm welcoming as always.” Gideon said smoothly. “It’s so nice to see you!”

“Is it really, Gleeful? I saw that commercial about me!”

“Oh, my.” Gideon raised his hands to his mouth, eyes widening innocently. “Let’s not make a fuss about that! It’s only business, after all.”

Mabel attempted to slam the door, but Gideon stopped it with one hand.

Something in Gideon’s smile tightened. “I think it's time for us to put that silly feud behind us!”

“You wish!” She barked.

Buddy appeared from behind his grandpa and Mabel tensed up.

“OH, HEY BUD! IT’S WIDDLE OL’ YOU!” Stan said loudly. He tried to give Bud a friendly punch on the arm, but he was so nervous he almost missed.  

“Haha, yeah. Widdle ol' me.” Buddy rubbed his now-aching arm. “That song is kinda catchy, isn’t it?”

“I wrote it myself.” Gideon added proudly.

“What’s happening here?” Mabel whispered angrily at the twins. “Why are you two getting along?”

“Uh,” Stan started, sweat forming on his forehead. “We- We met Buddy yesterday and he invited us to play. And that’s, um, that’s why they’re here.”

“I said no one who lives under my roof-”

“Tents don’t technically have roofs?” Ford squeaked. “And, um, he seemed nice, so-”

“Therefore, Mabel,” Gideon cut in, “we should leave those days behind. How can you deny the kids their fun?”

“I brought you something!” Bud said. He’d been holding both hands behind his back, but now he revealed an electric car in one hand and a remote control in the other. He set the car on the porch and immediately drove it in tight circles and crazy-eight flips.

Stan and Ford gasped with excitement.

“Oh c’mon Mabel that looks so cool!” Stan said, eyes glued to the car as it did a triple-sideways aerial loop.  

She looked unsure.  “Wellll…”

“THANKS!”

Stan and Ford grabbed Bud and hurried him off the porch to a bare spot on the lawn, where the car had a much larger area to perform neat tricks.  

“Hold up there, boys!” Gideon said, striding towards them. “Let’s go back to our house. We have plenty of room for you to play there!”

“Now hold on a minute-” Mabel started.

“But you’re invited too, of course!” Gideon said, turning to face her and extending his hand.  “It could be a chance for us to mend our relationship. For our family’s sake.” He added.

Mabel’s stomach turned over. The man was a snake oil salesman and she knew it.  

But, if it was for her kids...

* * *

Gideon’s car was a light blue Jaguar XJ6, clean and well-kept. Sitting shotgun, with the boys in the back, Mabel felt like she’d been suckered into sitting in a very elegant hearse.

Not that the boys seemed to feel that way. Stan was making all three of them laugh with a story about a dead rat floating in a bucket, and Buddy was returning the favor with a tale about a dead possum in one of Gideon’s used cars. She wished she could hop in back and join them.  

Gideon glanced at her, smiling that oily smile. “Mabel, Mabel,” He cooed. “your hair looks so lustrous! Have you gotten new shampoo?”

“Bet you would know if I did, you creep.” She grumbled, staring determinedly out the window.  She could practically feel him reaching to feel her hair and slapped his hand away. “No touchie. And since when did you start wearing a ponytail?”

Ford glanced up from telling a story about dissecting a frog. “What’s up with them?” He asked the others in a whisper.

“I think they like each other.” Stan stuck out his tongue in disgust. “You know, when people are like, ‘I hate you, I hate you,’ and then make out.”

“I thought that only happened in fiction.”

Finally they reached one of the exceptionally large houses in the city’s residential area. The house had white walls with blue trimming and a matching blue roof. There was a big garden all around it, giving the house plenty of privacy, although they could see the roof of a white gazebo peeking over the hedges. Pink flowers adorned the front gate, but the crowning attraction was a huge billboard with Bud’s face on it, rising magnificently above the rhododendrons. The caption on the billboard read, “Lil’ Buddy’s home - live from TV!”

Gideon parked the car and the five of them got out, heading up the walk.  

“We added that fountain the other day!” Gideon said, as they passed the main gate. He pointed to a fountain in the corner of the lawn, with a statue in the middle that looked like Buddy dressed as Cupid. “Isn’t it adorable?”

Buddy sighed.

The living room was pink and purple, filled with expensive-looking furniture. Stan and Ford thought it looked tacky.

Gideon took a seat on the couch, gesturing for Mabel to join him. “You kids go on and play, I’ll bring out the ice cream in a minute! Mabel and I will be doing some catching up!”

Mabel gritted her teeth but managed to smile. She sat down as well - as far as away as she could from Gideon.  

Buddy immediately started down the hall, the first real smile they’d seen blooming on his face. “Over here, let’s go to my room!” He said.

He led them to a door with a sign on it that read “Buddy’s Room.”  He opened it.

“Dude!” Stan exclaimed. “This is the most awesome room I’ve ever seen!”

The room had a bed shaped like a race car, a vanity with bulbs all around the mirror, and a walk-in closet - but the majority of the space was taken by cars. Shelves and shelves of model race cars, everything from remote-controlled vehicles to antique vintage car models.  

“Guess all that singing and dancing really paid off, huh?” Ford commented.

“Uh, yeah...” Bud gave a weak laugh. He went to the closet and came out with a racing car track toy still in the box. “I actually got this one just the other day, you guys can help me put it together!”

* * *

 In the living room, Gideon left his arm resting on the back of the couch, feigning innocence.  Mabel saw right through it. She inched further away from him.

He smiled at her, as if moving away was a cute move. “So, how's life treating you? You look great if I’m allowed to say so. It looks like you haven’t aged a day since our last little chat!”

“I aged many years, thank you.” Mabel retorted bitterly. “And I feel like I’m getting older by the minute near you!”

“Mabel, my dear-”

“Enough!” Mabel stood up and stomped the floor, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Cut the act, Gleeful! What are you planning?”

“My oh my.” Gideon’s eyes widened in exaggerated surprise. “I don’t have anything in mind besides an offer of friendship!”

“I’m never gonna be your friend, you southern, soft-skinned creep! It’s been years and I still can’t still can’t stand being around you! You didn’t change at all.”

Gideon stood suddenly and she froze - he was taller than she was and his face was suddenly red with anger.

“Keep on like this and you’ll destroy your nephews’ friendship,” He said, his voice low and threatening.  “maybe even their relationship with you. If you try to leave right now, then they go with you, and I won’t allow them to see my grandson ever again!”

At that moment there was the sound of sudden laughter from down the hall. Mabel’s gut twisted. They hadn’t actually made any friends their own age, and she felt guilty not spending more time with them since she worked all day. And Buddy seemed like a sweet, lonely kid, much like her boys.  

But if their new friendship meant being manipulated by Gideon...

He narrowed his eyes.  “So, what will it be, Mabel Pines?”

She swallowed and looked away.

“Just a moment, I’ll get us and the kids some ice cream!” Gideon said, suddenly smiling and cheerful as if nothing had happened. He turned and headed for the kitchen, a spring in his step.  “And while the boys play cars, I got us a movie to watch. Just you wait, Mabel Pines, we’re gonna have a grand ol’ time!”

* * *

The three boys were playing with the race track when Gideon’s voice rang out down the hall.  

“BUD! Ice cream!”

“I’ll be right back!” Bud dropped a toy car and hopped to his feet. “You’re going to love it - today it’s strawberry with peanuts!”

Stan perked up. “I love peanuts!”

Bud smiled and vanished down the hall.  

Once he was gone, Ford leaned forward and put out a hand, stopping the two race cars that had been zooming around the track.

“Hey, what gives?” Stan demanded.  

“Stanley, look-  I still don’t like that guy Gideon, and Buddy might be kinda fun, but…”

“Really? You don’t like Buddy?” Stan frowned. “Try not being a buzzkill for once. It’s not every day we get someone that put up with us!”

This was painfully true. They had a few acquaintances back in school, but mostly people avoided them - Stan got them into trouble and Ford was frequently bullied. No one else wanted to get drawn into any of that. Stan didn’t want to voice it, but he was excited about actually having a new friend - one that had cash and cars, too!

“I don’t know,” Ford said slowly.  “there’s something _off_ about him.”

“You’re always like that, man.”

Buddy returned to the room, struggling to open the door while holding three bowls of ice cream.  “Strawberry with peanuts! It’s my favor- AH!” Buddy almost dropped one of the bowls, but Stan caught it just in time. “Thanks, Stanley.”

“You okay there, pal?” Stan asked, licking the ice cream that had dripped onto his fingers.

“Yeah! It’s… Fine...”

The twins looked up. Buddy was staring down at himself, where some strawberry ice cream had dripped down his light pink tuxedo jacket.

Ford shrugged. “It’s pink, your shirt’s pink. You’re never gonna notice it there.”

“I-I guess.”

He didn’t seem quite as cheerful as before, but after a while he’d forgotten about the stain and became absorbed in racing Stan again.

The three of them played for hours, going through as many of Buddy’s toys as they could.  Stan and Buddy also joined forces to teach Ford about cars, using the realistic model cars as examples.  

“And this is a Chevrolet Camaro!” Stan held up the little replica, looking as proud as if he’d designed it himself. His eyes sparkled.  “Man, this gotta be one of my favorites.”

“Mine too!” Buddy comments.

“But I still want a Cadillac DeVille when I grow up.” Stan added.  

“Doesn’t Ms. Pines have one?”

“She does, but you should see what she did to the interior!”

“As long as she didn’t mess with the engine. Did you know they came out with a new version that can get 18 miles per gallon in the city?”

“Who cares about that, I just wanna go fast!”

“Uh-huh.” Ford said awkwardly. He wasn’t really sure how to join the conversation.  

Abruptly they heard the chime of a clock.

Buddy glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Oh!  I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Can we meet again tomorrow?” Stan asked eagerly.  

“Sure!” Buddy grabbed a pen from inside his suit and writes an address on Stan’s arm. “This is our family’s factory. We can meet there!”

“You guys got a whole factory?” Stan raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Sounds cool, we’ll be there!”

“I gotta clean this up,” Buddy said, pointing at the toys. “but you guys can go on back to the living room. It’s right down the hallway. And you can leave the dishes, I’ll get them later.”

The twins said goodbye and left. Stan made Ford write down the factory address on the notepad on the way, just in case Stan sweated it off.

Gideon and Mabel were on the couch, watching TV together. More or less, anyway. Gideon was carefully removing the peanuts from his ice cream, and Mabel was just poking at a bowl of melted stuff. It looked like she hadn’t even eaten any, which for Mabel was rather alarming.

“Kids!” The second she saw them coming, she leaped to her feet with a smile. “Welp, I guess it’s time to go!”

"Hey, we were going to meet Buddy again tomorrow," Stan said.  "I mean- Can we? If you can’t drive us, we can walk or something."

"Oh... Of course..."

Her tone of voice sounded a little off to Ford, but before he could say anything, Gideon stood up with a huge smile on his face.

"That's just marvelous!" he exclaimed, turning to grin at Mabel. "See, they're getting along! We should follow their example meet tomorrow as well!"

Mabel gave him a pained smile.  

"I know a great restaurant, hold on..." Gideon reached for a notepad on the coffee table, scribbled something, and pressed into Mabel’s reluctant hands.  “While the boys go do their kid thing, we can meet here - the Beau-T!”


	8. Stan By Me Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, i haven't been on my computer for the past few days, but here it is!

The following day, Mabel met Gideon at the fancy aquatic-themed restaurant named The Beau-T (pronounced “boat”). Normally, she would have loved being there - but not when she was being extorted.

Mabel didn’t even bother changing from her Mrs. Mystery outfit. She checked in at the entrance and a waiter showed her the table Gideon had reserved. It was actually a booth, one of the best spots at the restaurant, and the man was already waiting for her.

Gideon stood as she approached.  “Mabel Pines! Looking lovely as always.” He indicated her seat next to him.

She sat down on the opposite side of the booth.

“I ordered us some champagne,” He said, selecting one of the bottles from the table and serving her a glass. He poured another for himself and lifted it in a toast. “To our kids!”

“It’s too early for this.” Mabel muttered, but she grabbed her glass anyway and toasted. She took only the smallest sip, but the bubbles still burned on the way down.

A waiter approached, positively beaming with delight, and poured them more champagne. “Ah, Monsieur Gideon! So good to see you! What else can I get you today?”

“Lobster. Two orders.” Gideon said, putting his feet on the table with his arms behind his head. Mabel frowned.  

“Ah, the feet on the table! An excellent choice!”

“Jean Luc, what did we discuss about eye contact? Now bring us the lobster.”

“Yes, yes, very good!” The waiter averted his eyes, backing away with the smile still on his face.  

Mabel scowled at Gideon. “ _Please_ and _thank you_ are words you can use, you know.”

He smiled at her, almost gently.  “Only one word from you, my sweet, and you can have anything your heart desires.”

Mabel pinched her nose. “Gideon, I know we had a thing in the past, but it’s _over_. You haven’t changed at all! Just move on!  You have a business and a grandson to take care of!  There is more to life than fixating on what you can’t have!”

Gideon took his feet off the table and leaned forward earnestly.  “But, my lady...how could I ever move on from a woman like you? In my heart, you will always be my queen.”  He reached for her hand.

Mabel jerked her hand away.  “I am not your anything, and I never will be!”  She stood up and adjusted her fez. “I don’t want to hurt the boys, and for Bud’s sake I hope you won’t forbid their friendship - but I’m leaving, Gideon!  Now!”

Gideon narrowed his eyes.  “Are you sure about that, Mabel?”

He snapped his fingers and a different waiter immediately bustled over, a newspaper in his hand.  Gideon threw it on the table.

The front page showed a picture of her nephews and Buddy, hanging out together, smiling and laughing.  The headline read “Li’l Buddy’s Little Buddies”.

Mabel hesitated. Her heart twisted. She knew Gideon would absolutely forbid their friendship if she so much as took a single step.  It wasn’t right to allow herself to be manipulated - but could she really take their friendship away from them…?

People gathered around the table, exclaiming about the photo.  

“Well, if that ain’t something!” A young man exclaimed. “Lil’ Buddy got new friends!”

“They’re so happy together!” Added the young man’s date.

An old lady put her hands to her chest.  “If such a lovely friendship like that dies, I think I’ll die too!”

“I can verify that will indeed happen!” said the town doctor.

Mabel sat back down, her head in her hands.

“Don’t you want this evening to last, my sweet?” Gideon lifted her head with a finger under her chin, offering her glass of champagne.

Mabel snatches the glass and downed it in one gulp.

“Enchanting,” Gideon whispered, smiling creepily.  “Utterly enchanting.”

* * *

 The twins and Buddy had made plans to climb up on the roof of the Gleeful Family Factory.  Buddy hadn’t really been dressed for climbing in his light pink suit, so they’d stopped by his home briefly to let him change.

“Liking the shirt,” Stan said, as they walked up the road.  “It suits you.”

“You think?”  Buddy glanced down at himself, grinning.  He wore a loud Hawaiian shirt patterned with pink and blue. He’d even grabbed a straw hat - his father’s adamant lectures about accessorizing made him take the hat by reflex.

Ford nodded.  “Oh yeah, this is way better.  The suit made you look like a mini-adult, and you looked kind of stiff in it. Does it have actual shoulder pads in it?”

“Yeah,” Buddy admitted, rubbing his arm. “It’s not up to me. Grandpa wants me to look good in public.”

Stan rolled his eyes.  “But it’s summer! You shouldn't be walking around looking like a businessman!  You look fine like this. Well, except for -” He reached for Buddy’s bolo tie.

Buddy pulled back.  “Wait, that’s my lucky bolo tie.  I don’t go anywhere without it.”

“Well, suit yourself,” Stan shrugged. “But don’t... _S_ _uit_ yourself. Get it? Get it?”

Buddy laughed.

“So, what are we gonna do here again?” Ford asked, as they reached the factory.

Buddy grinned.  “The roof - we gotta climb the roof, the view’s amazing!”

“Are you sure?” Stan asked, looking up the factory walls. “That…uh. That doesn’t look very safe.”

Buddy looked at him, surprised.  In the less than 48 hours he’d known Stan, ‘safety’ did not seem like one of his new friends’ usual concerns.  “It’s totally safe,” Buddy said. “I’ve been there a billion times. Come on!” He ran ahead.

When Stan didn’t move, Ford drew up next to him.  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Stan.”

“I’m… I’m fine!” Stan blurted out, nervously looking towards Buddy. “He said it’s safe. Let’s go. Stop being such a nerd!”

He ran off after Buddy.

The three of them went around the factory to a ladder that led from the ground to the roof.  Buddy led the way, Stan next, and Ford last, to reassure Stan that someone would be there to catch him if he fell.  

The roof was metallic and slanted.  Stan walked slowly, staring instead at his brother’s back as they made their way to the edge.  He avoided looking down.

Buddy led them to the other side of the roof and they sat down, facing the town.  

“Wow, you can see the whole valley from up here!” Ford said.  He took a pair of binoculars out of his jacket. “You can see Main Street so clearly…  Hey, I see Mr. Dalton!”

“Nice binoculars.” Buddy commented.

Ford tried to shrug it off, but a smile crept over his face.  “Yeah, I’m prepared for anything.”

“Stan, aren’t you gonna look?” Buddy asked.

“No, I’m fine.” Stan was laying back, trying to look relaxed by having his arms behind his head, but his eyes were shut tight. The slanted roof was actually perfect to lean back against.  If he could forget they were several meters away above the ground, he could actually enjoy it. “My butt is comfortable over here, thanks.”

Ford made a mental note to keep an eye on Stan, then turned back to admiring the view.

For a while they sat in pleasant quiet, just listening to the wind and the hum of the factory’s ventilation.  The sun-warmed tiles tingled against their legs. The distant windows of the town glittered like drops of water.

A particularly strong gust of wind blew off Buddy’s hat and left a handful of leaves in his hair.  “Whoops, better fix that…”

Ford glanced at him.  “I wanted to ask, what’s up with your hair?”

“My hair?"

“It’s white,” he pointed out, rather unnecessarily.  “I heard people can gray early, but not this early! Is it a mutation or something?”

Buddy looked uncomfortable.  “Oh, it’s… It’s hereditary.”

Ford didn’t seem very convinced, but before he could push the subject, Stan interrupted.

“Speaking of hereditary, what’s up with Gideon?”

“He’s my grandpa.” Bud said, tugging his hat a little lower. “He was actually the Tent of Telepathy’s main attraction, but when my parents sent me to live with him, I…  He made up some excuse about me inheriting his psychic powers. He said my face would be just the thing to get more publicity.” By now he looked downright miserable, fiddling with his bolo tie.  

“So, it’s all just your grandpa’s thing?” Ford asked.  “Do you even want to do it?”

“I do! I-” Buddy hesitated.  Then he let out a deep sigh. “No, I don’t want to do this.”

“We know how that feels,” Stan said, eyes still shut.

“What, with Grauntie Mabel?” Ford asked skeptically.  “She’s not exactly forcing us to follow in her footsteps.  Well, she does have us do a ton of chores, but -”

“No, no, with our dad!  He wants us to work at his pawn shop or go to a fancy college, but our dream is to sail the world!”  He cracked one eye open. “What do you wanna do, Buddy?”

“It sounds silly, but…I wanna be a car salesman.  Grandpa actually works with cars as well, but he doesn’t even like it.  That’s a job I wouldn’t mind inheriting.”

“I imagine you can’t talk to him about it.” Ford said.

“No.  I tried, but he doesn’t accept it!” Bud brought his knees to his chest, one hand still clutching the bolo tie. “My parents send me here because they didn’t have enough money for us.  Grandpa does. And it’s been working so well, if I messed it up -” His voice cracked. He hadn’t planned on saying any of this. He wasn’t even supposed to be friends with them for real, and now -

“Hey.”  Stan sat up carefully and put a hand on Buddy’s shoulder.  “That stinks, but if it helps, I think you’re a cool guy. We like you outside this whole Lil’ Buddy thing.”

Bud lifted his head.  “Really?”

Stan and Ford both nodded.

Buddy felt a small spark of hope light up in his chest.  He sniffed and smiled shakily. “Well... Thank you.”

“Someday we’ll sail the world and you will own the coolest Camaro ever!” Stan announced.  “Ain’t _nobody_ gonna stop us!”

Buddy nodded, smiling more widely now.

Stan surprised him by wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a half-hug.  Ford scooted closer and patted him on the back. Bud let go of the tie to return the gestures.

As he did, Ford thought he saw something flash on the surface of the bolo tie.  As if, just for a moment, it had started to glow.

* * *

 

The Pines family met each other back at the Shack later that day.  The twins found Mabel in the living room, dropping in a live lobster in the aquarium along with the axolotl.

“Hey, munchkins!” she said, waving cheerfully.  She looked her usual self, but something in her voice was a little... Off.

Ford glanced at Stan and saw that his brother had noticed it, too.  “Hi, Grauntie Mabel,” Ford said cautiously. “How did it go with Gideon?”

“He didn’t do anything weird, did he?” Stan asked suspiciously.  Gideon sounded fine on TV, but Buddy had told a different story - he wish he’d known about it before they let Mabel go on a date with him.  “If Gideon did anything weird, we’ll send him running, just like Norman!”

“You two did what with Norman?” Mabel asked, closing the aquarium.

“Uh…We had a friendly conversation with him about creeping on you.  That totally did not involve punching or violence. If Gideon is messing with you, we can deal with him too!”

“Definitely.” Ford said, nodding.

Mabel smiled weakly.  “Kids, that’s very sweet of you, but everything is fine, okay?” She moved towards the kitchen.  

Even the axolotl looked worried.

"So, what are you and Gideon gonna do tomorrow?" Ford persisted.

"AUGH! Fine! You guys are right!" Mabel stopped at the living room door, knocking off her fez as she grabbed at her hair.  "Gideon is awful! I can't stand him! We dated for a while in the past but he hasn't moved on!"

"Why didn't you kick his butt right away?" Stan said, clinging to his grauntie's arm protectively. “Also I thought girls liked when you touch their hair.  You’re kinda making a mess of it.”

"I know! And we’re gonna talk about girls later.” Mabel brushed her hair back, trying to fix her bun. "The problem was...you two were getting along well with Buddy, and I didn't wanna ruin it by arguing with Gideon.”

Stan blew a raspberry. “Is that it? If something happened, we would have found a way to keep in touch with Buddy.”

“Sorry you had to go through that because of us.” Ford handed her back her fez. “Next time, you can tell whatever it is to us, and we’ll come up with a plan!”

“Thank you.” Mabel took her fez. Her eyebrows knitted together for a moment, but then she lifts her head with a smile.  “Do you kids... Want pizza for dinner?”

“Heck yeah!” both twins cheered.

* * *

At the Gleeful family’s residence, Buddy sat in front of his illuminated vanity, wondering how he’d let it get this far.

“Darn it.” he muttered.

He looked over to a recent newspaper sitting on the vanity beside him.  He clutched his bolo tie. It started glowing. A matching blue aura engulfed the newspaper and it floated toward him.

His name was in the headlines, as usual.  He didn’t know when the picture was taken, but the article spoke fondly of him and his “friends”.  They did really look like they were having fun.

And they had.

But they weren’t supposed to.

He wasn’t supposed to be getting along with them. At least not for real. Gideon would probably be really angry if he found out it wasn’t an act anymore.

“Darn it!” he repeated, louder and angrier, clenching the bolo tie in his fist. “Gosh dang, huckleberry honeysuckle darn it!”

Before he’d realized it, all the furniture in his room was levitating, and the newspaper lit on fire and burned to ashes.  

“Oh my.”

He let go of the tie.  Everything fell to the ground with a loud bang.  His wardrobe landed so hard the wood on the side of it cracked.  He winced.

Gideon slammed the door open.  “What’s going on in here?!” he demanded. “It’s late already, you should be -” He stopped, seeing Bud’s hand hovering over the tie. “Oh, were you practicing using the amulet?  Excellent!”

* * *

Gideon had insisted that Bud continue practicing late into the night.  He even stayed to supervise. Wouldn’t do to get the boy off-track now.  

The next morning found Gideon in the living room, reviewing his plans.  He’d given Bud permission to have a second bowl of strawberry and peanuts ice cream.  This was both a reward for working hard, and a reminder - the only reason Bud could have such a treat was because he lived under Gideon’s roof.

_Ring.  Riiiiing._

Gideon picked up the phone.  “I’m not buying anything.”

“And I ain’t sellin’, pal,” a kid’s voice answered. “I wanna talk to Buddy.”

“Who is this?”

“Stanley Pines.”

“Oh, of course!” Gideon’s tone became sickly sweet. “You sound so mature I almost didn’t recognize you!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Stan snapped. “can I talk to Buddy now?”

“Fine.”

On the other end of the line, Stan heard Gideon shout for Bud.  He waited for him to pick up.

“Are you sure about this, Stan?” Ford asked, standing next to him.

“Yeah, totally. Buddy is cool.”

Bud came on the phone.  “Hi, Stanley!”

“Look Bud, we gotta talk. This is important. Can we meet sometime today?”

“Uh…  O-Of course! How about my family’s factory again?”

“I guess.”

“Great!  But what is this for?”

“We’ll meet you there and I’ll explain it further. But everything is cool, okay?” Stan crossed his fingers behind his back. “Yup, it’s all totally copacetic.  We’ll see you there!”

And he hung up.

“I hope we know what we’re doing,” Ford muttered.

Bud slowly put down the phone.  He turned to Gideon, who had been standing next to him, listening to the entire conversation.

“I think they’re onto us.” Bud said tonelessly.

“What a shame!  I was starting to like them.”  Gideon shrugged elaborately. “But I guess we have to do something about it now, hm?”

Swallowing, Buddy nodded.

* * *

The twins headed to the Gleeful family’s factory.

It was past closing time, so the place was eerie quiet. They didn’t see any signs of Buddy outside.

“Do you think he forgot?” Ford asked, looking around.

“Don’t know. But hey, I think the door is open! He might be inside.”

Stan ran up to the factory’s front door.

“Stanley, wait!” Ford tried to call him, but his brother disappeared inside.  Ford groaned. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

But he followed his brother anyway

The place was dark and empty.  Even standing in the doorway with both doors open, it was impossible to see anything outside the square of yellow light.  They could vaguely make out the shapes of boxes, piled high against the walls, with Bud’s face stamped on all of them. But they couldn’t tell if anyone was there, or even where the light switch was.

“Well this isn’t creepy at all.” Stan said, stepping in.  “Hello? Is anyone here?”

Ford followed him.  “There has to be somebody here.  They wouldn’t just leave the doors unlocked, right?”

Suddenly the doors slammed shut behind them.

“Hey!” Stan whipped around and yanked at the handles.  “It’s locked! Hey! HEY!” He pounded at the door.

The lights went on, temporarily blinding them.  They turned around, shielding their eyes.

There was a single chair at the back of the room.  It turned slowly to face them - and Bud was sitting in its seat, stroking a plushie version of himself.  

“Howdy, Pines boys.” Bud said quietly.  

“Hi, Bud...” Ford said slowly.  

“What gives?” Stan demanded.  “What’re you doing acting all creepy and stuff?  Not that you scared us! I mean you didn’t scare _me_.  I dunno about Ford, here-”

“Hey!”

“I knew you two wanted to talk about my gramps,” Bud said. “but you shouldn’t be messing around with things that are none of your business. This town has secrets you couldn’t begin to comprehend.”

Stan frowned.  “What? C’mon, man! I thought we were friends!”

“You lied to us on the roof, didn’t you?” Ford said, inching closer to Stan.  “You’re in league with your uncle. He’s planning something, isn’t he? Stan, I bet they’ve both been conning our whole family the entire time!”

Stan clenched his fists.  “Gideon was going all creepy on our grauntie, did you know that, Bud?!  I thought you wanted to be better than your gramps!”

Bud scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess that’s not very nice. But he’s my family, you know? I have to side with him. You guys know how it is, right?  No hard feelings.” He stood and gripped his lucky bolo tie, lifting his free hand in the air.

A blue glow surrounded each twin and they lifted into the air, but before they could react they were thrown across the room and into a pile of merchandise.

Luckily the boxes they landed on were full of packing peanuts and soft dolls, but Stan nearly banged his head falling to the floor and Ford landed painfully on his elbow, smashing a talking doll.

“Howdy!” The doll squeaked.  

“Did you lie about _everything!?_ ” Stan shouted, struggling to his feet.  “I thought you said it was fake!”

“Tell me, Stan, is this fake?”

Buddy gestured with his hand again.  More merchandise floated out of their boxes - dolls, buttons, some very heavy coasters.  With a flick of his fingers, Bud sent everything zooming towards the twins.

“Agh!”  Ford ducked for cover as a coaster smacked him in the skull.  

Stan dodged, grabbed a box and started trying to beat the merchandise away.  “Cut it out, man! I thought we were friends!”

“I’m sorry, Stanley,” Bud said, sounding genuinely sad.  “but I gotta do this.”

“Stan, forget about him!” Ford shouted, as objects crashed all around him. “We just gotta get out of here!”

“I d-OW!”  Stan dropped as a Li’l Bud Mug hit him hard between his shoulders.  

“Stan!”  

Ford ran to a box labeled “blunt object” and pulled out a wooden bat. He darted behind a pile of boxes and tried to sneak around Bud’s blind spot. It didn’t look like Bud noticed him, or was even looking for him. If he could just get there fast enough...

Stan groaned and looked up.  “No - STANFORD, BEHIND YOU!”

Ford turned as a bookshelf he hadn’t noticed slowly began tipping.  He yelled and covered his head as objects rained down on him, smacking his arms and shoulders.  He stumbled back.

Stan grabbed his brother’s jacket and yanked him out of the way just before the shelf collapsed in an explosion of packing peanuts, crushing everything under it.  

“We are SO out of here!” Stan shouted, racing towards the door.

Suddenly he felt Ford’s hand slip from his fingers. He whirled around to find Bud levitating Ford ten feet above the ground.  A pair of scissors ripped its way out of the nearest box and pointed itself at Ford’s face, glinting ominously.

“Is there anything you don’t sell?!” Ford shouted.

Stan screamed.  “Bud! Stop it! STOP!”

Bud hesitated - just long enough for Stan to launch himself at Bud and punch him squarely in the face.  

Bud yelped and grabbed Stan’s hand before he could land another hit, but his concentration was broken and Ford fell from the air with a yelp.

Stan snarled. “Family can suck, I get it!  But you mess with my brother, you mess with ME!”

Stan leaned back and then slammed his forehead into Bud’s.

Hurt and disoriented, Bud stumbles back. Stan lunged and snapped the bolo tie from around Bud’s neck.  He raised it over his head.

“No, wait, waitwaitwait!” Bud yelped, grabbing for it - but Stan threw it to the floor, smashing the gem against the concrete.  A puff of blue smoke escaped from the cracks and the gem turned a dull, lifeless gray.

“No!” Bud cried, reaching to the broken pieces. “Gosh darn it, grandpa is gonna kill me…!”

“Good luck with that, pal.” Stan said bitterly.  He walked away to help Ford up. “Go tell Gideon that Mabel is never _ever_ is gonna date him.”

* * *

The twins left the factory and Bud made his way home in the dark.  He could feel his forehead swelling from Stan’s headbutt.

He reached his home and walked into the living room to find Gideon and Mabel having tea - or at least, his grandfather indulging himself with cupcakes and Mabel staring at her tea like it was poisoned.

Gideon looked up when he walked in. “What happened to you, boy?” he asked.  And then his eyes twitched in sudden realization. “Where are the twins?”

“They…” Bud winced, wary of Gideon’s anger. “They beat me up and ruined my lucky tie.”

For a split second, Mabel froze. Then she slammed her teacup down and stabbed a finger at Gideon.  “Ha! I guess we’re done here, Gleeful!”

“W-what?! Wait!”

But Mabel rushed past Bud and slammed the door behind her.  

Gideon threw the door open.  “Fine! FINE! Mabel Pines, I rebuke thee! I rebuke thee! The entire Pines' family have invoked my fury! You will all pay recompense for your transgressions!”

“You said the same thing when we broke up!” Mabed shouted back. “Throw that word-a-day calendar away, Gleeful!”

Bud heard the roar of an engine as Mabel Pines drove away.  Gideon turned to face Bud, his face a dangerous shade of red.  “And you- you- YOU! All you had to do was keep those two out of the way and you messed it up!”

“I-”

He squeezed his hands together, and he saw his grandfather’s eyes drop to his collar.  “And you LOST THE AMULET?!”

“I’m sorry...” Bud said miserably, staring at his shoes.

Gideon took several deep breaths, wheezing like an angry bull.  Then he turned on his heel and stalked to the bookshelf. He took out an old book with a deep blue cover.  A gold star was pressed into the front, with the number “2” written in pitch-black ink.

“Grandpa?” Bud said tentatively.

“We gotta work on something else now.” Gideon said his voice low and threatening. “And they’ll see… They will all see.”

* * *

The twins returned to the shack to find Mabel already there. She was sprawled on the armchair in the living room, apparently half-asleep.

Then she noticed the twins coming in and stretched, joints popping. “Hey, family.” She rubbed her eyes and looked at them with concern. “So, how was it with Buddy?”

Of course she could already guess what had happened from what she’d heard at the Gleeful house, but she wanted to hear it from her niblings.  They didn’t look so good.

“Not so well.” Stan rubbed his arm, looking away. Ford patted his shoulder.  “But, eh. It’s whatever.” Stan regained his composure and wrapped an arm around Ford’s shoulders. “Couldn’t ask for a better friend than this guy right here!”

Ford smiled. “Same here, bro.”

Mabel smiled a little.  She’d wanted them to make more friends, but as long they were happy, she was happy. “Glad to hear that! Siblings should always have each other, through thick and thin!”

“You okay, too?” Stan asked.  “How was it with Gideon?”

She shrugged.  “He reacted the way I expected him to. I swear he said the same thing when we broke up. Swore revenge on the family. But whatever he has in stock, I’m sure we can deal with it!”

Stan laughed. “Yeah, what’s he’s gonna do now? Guess what number we’re thinking of?”

“Negative eight!” Ford joined in. “I think it’s more unlikely someone would guess a negative number.”

“Brilliant!” Mabel exclaimed, beaming at him. “You two are a gem. Those Gleefuls don’t stand a chance against the Pines!”

The twins threw their fists in the air.  “Pines! Pines! Pines!”

She laughed.  “Uh-oh! He’s planning his revenge right now! What you’re gonna do?” She pulled Stan and Ford on the couch with her, tickling them until they were all on the floor, piled on each other in a heap of giggles and laughter.   

* * *

Even if he wasn’t grounded, Bud was supposed to be in his room.  

He wasn’t.  

He snuck out of the house and moved quietly down the sidewalk.  He looked back only once, checking the lights in Gideon’s room on the second story.  The lights were out.

He kept walking.

In just a few moments, he reached a dark alley.  A group of hooded people were standing there, waiting for him.  He joined them.

They disappeared into the night.

 

**BHDK EXW VR ZKDW? HYHUBERGB'V ZHLUG.**

****

**Author's Note:**

> We don't have a lot of time to get together and write, but we'll try to keep a schedule going. We'll post on Mondays, bi-monthly. No promises though, but we're doing our best! We've been working on this AU for a while now, with the addition of our own ideas, and we are really passionate about it. We hope you guys enjoy it as well!
> 
> This is my first time posting on ao3 so apologies for any mistakes.


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